


Christmas Cake

by Lymers



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Special, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 52,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21707866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lymers/pseuds/Lymers
Summary: Nicole secretly fancies Waverly, who has an interesting secret of her own...
Relationships: Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 411
Kudos: 518





	1. That cake

Nicole checked her watch. Ten minutes to go before she could close the bookstore. Another busy day. Shoppers making last minute purchases, staff off sick, excited children listening to a story in the afternoon, she was looking forward to relaxing, tidying up, heading upstairs to her flat.

A few customers remained looking for something suitable, or not, to hand over on Christmas Day. Careful consideration no longer a priority. Those who left shopping perilously late, grabbing a Lee Child, or a James Patterson off the shelf in the hope of it sufficing as a token gift. She could always tell the half-hearted, choosing books, their shape easier to wrap. She didn’t care. Her job was to sell not to scold. What they bought, when they bought it, who they bought it for of no concern. 

A sale was a sale.

She made her way through the shop, wondering if a certain someone was still on the upper level. The woman who came to write, sitting in one of the comfy leather armchairs close to the radiator, absorbed in her work. Nicole had wanted to ask her many times what she was writing. Whatever it was, she would spend the best part of a Saturday afternoon beavering away, scribbling notes in a journal, occasionally popping to the café in the basement to purchase a latte. Mostly drinking water from her refillable bottle. 

Blue. Covered in stickers reflecting her passion for the planet. 500ml. Nicole had researched the precise make online, spending ages deliberating. She chose orange. Its feel, its weight. Taking sips throughout the day, her lips touching the cool metal rim, the water filling her mouth. Quenching her thirst. A tangible connection to someone with whom she was too nervous to strike up any lengthy conversation. A few pleasantries exchanged on occasions when Nicole plucked up enough courage.

Carrying a handful of unpurchased items, she made her way upstairs. Warmer. Spotlights throwing out a soft glow across a landscape of literature, creating a more relaxed atmosphere than the ground floor. The large wood burner in the centre of the store rarely providing sufficient heat, cooler air lurking in corners. She spotted a pair of legs, a glass coffee cup on top of a small plate resting beside. Her usual bag. Large. Black. Feminine. 

She casually walked past the seat, stopping to insert a book randomly on a shelf. Out of sequence, she would have to return later to remove the offending item. Place it where it needed to go. She turned, pretending to be surprised someone was still in the store, recognising her acting skills needed more work.

“We’re closing.”

“Sorry. Nearly finished. What time is it?”

“I won’t be locking up for a while.”

“Thanks. I’d better get going. Don’t want to miss my bus.”

“Right. The snow’s come.”

“Blast. Messes up the timetable.”

Nicole watched as the woman hurriedly gathered her things, a pencil dropping on the floor as she shoved everything in her oversized bag. Nicole bent down, capturing the escaped instrument, holding it at arm’s length. The woman’s hand brushed against hers. Nicole pulled away quickly, her gaze lowered, not wanting to give anything away. 

The woman threw the pencil in her bag, sensing the awkwardness of the person standing before her. 

“Thank you Nicole.”

The way the woman purred her name sent a jolt through Nicole’s body. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. She glanced up, catching the sparkle of green eyes.

“You know my name?”

The woman pointed to the name badge on Nicole’s shirt. “Waverly, or Waves. I don’t mind.”

“Waves. As in.” Nicole made a waving motion with her hand, instantly regretting the move.

“That’s right. Well, better go. Happy Christmas.”

“Same to you. I mean Happy Christmas. Hope Santa brings you something nice.”

A quizzical look on Waverly’s face reminded Nicole she was dreadful at small talk. She waited for Waverly to leave, her eyes fixed on her back as she made her way down the stairs. No longer in view, Nicole slumped in the seat, resting her back against the warmed leather, eyes closed. Nicole’s favourite moment of the day. Sitting where she had sat, taking in the delicious scent of perfume left behind. Sweet. Indulgent. Very sexy. A nod to the personality of the wearer she hoped. 

She didn’t hear her return. The sound of her voice making Nicole spring from the chair like a gazelle about to be attacked. 

“Forgot my cup.” 

“Sorry. Yes, your cup. I was. This is.”

“The most comfortable seat. I know. Long day?”

“Very. I wasn’t. What perfume do you wear?”

“Carolina Herrera 212 Sexy. Why?”

“It’s unusual. Sexy you say. 212.”

Nicole took the cup and plate from Waverly. That would be the last time she indulged without first checking she would not get caught.

She followed Waverly down the stairs, all the way to the entrance. The biting chill of the night air hit her as she opened the door. The snow was coming down hard, several inches already settled, creating a landscape of white as far as the eye could see. Snowflakes danced in front of the street light. A bleak blanket thrown over a town getting ready to enjoy the night before Christmas. Magical, if looking out from a cosy room. Miserable, if travelling.

Nicole watched as Waverly walked towards the bus stop, her footprints leaving a solitary trail. She could feel the cold seeping into her bones. She shivered, wondering whether Waverly would get home. The buses were unreliable whenever bad weather set in. She should have offered to drive. Too forward, she considered. Perhaps, she should have called a cab for her. Too presumptuous. 

She closed the door, locking it. She still had the coffee cup in her hand, traces of lipstick left on the rim. A reminder, like her perfume, of the choices Waverly made. The emptiness of the store reinforced Nicole’s existence. The crackle of wood being consumed by the burner, her only talking companion for the evening. 

It was her aunt’s store. Retired, no children of her own, she had asked Nicole to run it. Nicole visited many times as a child, helping out when she was older. With no one to call special, she could busy herself keeping a family business going, trying new ideas to generate business. Her marketing degree put to good use. 

She continued on her rounds, collecting books removed from shelves, not replaced. Her pet hate. She would make herself something light for dinner. An omelette. Watch a romantic film, maybe sample the new whiskey a regular customer had left for her a few days previously. She wondered if Waverly had anyone special in her life. No rings. She had checked. She never came in with anyone. 

She stood at the front till, her next job to cash up. A tap on glass. Looking up she saw Waverly’s face peering in through the front door. Nicole rushed to open it, ushering her inside. 

“You OK?”

“Mind if I come in. No buses.”

“Of course.”

“Didn’t know what to do. Called a cab. They’re not coming out. Too dangerous.”

“You’re freezing.”

“Sorry. Should have left earlier. Who knew it would be like this. I’m keeping you.”

“It’s fine. Had no plans. Here.”

Nicole motioned for Waverly to move towards the wood burner. The two stood in silence as Waverly defrosted. Nicole was unsure what to do. Her flat would be warmer. Should she suggest it? Waverly could feel her fingers again, removing her coat and scarf, rubbing her hands together. 

“I have a flat,” Nicole said.

“Me too. Other side of town. Where’s yours?”

“Upstairs. It’s warm.”

“Right. You live here? That’s cool. Your very own bookstore.”

“My aunt’s. I have whiskey.”

“Even better. Sorry, I really should have paid more attention to the weather reports.”

“No, really it’s fine. Never listen to them either. They’re all about weather.”

Waverly studied Nicole’s face. “I think that’s what they’re for.”

“I can bring the whiskey here if you don’t want to go upstairs.”

“Are you sure I’m not putting you out?”

“I have eggs.”

“I’m vegan.”

“Right. No eggs. I have bread.”

“Bread and whiskey. Perfect. It’ll be a party.”

“No. I don’t think so. You need cake for a party.”

“Do you?”

“I’m sorry. I’m hopeless at this.”

“It’s fine. Are you always this nervous?”

Nicole nodded. “I never know what to say. Usually the wrong thing.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“I can get some. From the café, if you want. Although we might be out. I can go buy some.”

“In this weather? We can pretend we have cake, would that help?”

“I guess. Shall we?”

Nicole led the way upstairs. 

The lounge was large, lived-in, a fire blazing in the hearth as they entered, a small lamp in the corner providing additional light. Cosy. Christmassy. Waverly sat on one of the large couches placed either side of the fireplace, Nicole bringing over the bottle of whiskey and two glasses. She sat on the couch opposite pouring a generous amount of whiskey into each glass.

Waverly took the glass being handed to her. “You’ll get me drunk.”

Nicole slipped off her shoes, bringing her legs up under her body, taking a sip. Another silence. Nicole searched for a topic of conversation. “Are you a writer?”

“Kind of. I prefer storyteller. Less frightening. I’m working on something right now. My eleventh.”

“Wish I could write. Tell stories. I sell them, can’t create them. Can I get you bread?”

“Whiskey is perfect. I wish I ran a bookstore. So many interesting people to watch. Do you ever people watch?”

Nicole felt her cheeks redden once more. “Too busy. I really don’t mind going to get cake.”

“Do you want cake?”

“No. Only, you eat cake when you have a drink.”

“Very observant of you.”

“I may have noticed once. Possibly twice. What do you write about?”

“Romance. My publisher needs a draft by February. Really stressful. After the success of my third novel I seem to be on a treadmill churning out stories.”

“That would be stressful. What’s your latest about?”

“Oh, someone I’ve observed. That’s the lovely thing about writing. You can take characters and make them do whatever you want.”

Nicole took a sip of her drink, her imagination working overtime. If she was to write a story she would definitely include Waverly. Perhaps fighting a war together in space. Or, lovers in a French ski resort. Or, her an art thief desperate to steal Waverly’s heart. So many possibilities.

She looked up, a smile on her face. “Does the person know they are being observed?”

“Nope. I can describe if you like. You might recognise them.”

“Doubt it.”

“OK. Here goes. This person works extremely hard. Dresses to hide the beauty of their form. Notices the smallest of details. Cares about what they do. Is very attractive.”

Nicole shook her head. “Your boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Not yet. Shall I continue? This person thinks they are not in with a chance. Doesn’t have enough confidence to make a move. Has difficulty making small talk.”

”OK.”

“This person has watched from afar for several months, never quite sure to approach. Always polite. Always attentive.”

“OK.”

“This person wants to ask her out. Sits in the same seat after she’s left. Bought a similar water bottle.”

“OK.”

“This person is sitting opposite, wondering what to do next.”

Nicole didn’t know what to do next. 

“Shall I keep going?”

“No. I think I’ve worked out who it is?”

Waverly took a sip of whiskey. “I’d say yes if you asked.”

“To cake? Do you? Would you? Could you see yourself?”

“I could. And the answer is yes.”

Nicole brought her eyes up to meet Waverly’s. “I wish I’d asked sooner. Thank you.”

They talked. Nicole moved to sit beside Waverly, the two exchanging life stories, getting to know each other. As the evening progressed, the two could be found locked in each other’s arms, their first kiss the most exquisite. A tender moment shared. Nicole brushed a strand of hair from Waverly’s face.

“I thought I’d be spending Christmas Eve on my own.”

“Don’t, you’ll make me cry.”

“Do you need to be anywhere? Family? I can drive you. Least, I think I can drive you. I’ll have to check outside.”

“Not for a while. I could do with a few hours in bed. Sorry, that came out wrong.”

“I have a bed. I need to tidy up downstairs.”

Waverly looked into Nicole’s eyes. “Thank you. You could always leave the tidying up.”

Nicole extracted herself from Waverly, standing, offering her hand. “Who tidies on Christmas Eve?”

Waverly took Nicole’s hand. “Indeed. When there are so many other things we could be doing.”

….


	2. That towel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Santa...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry.
> 
> I know. I said I wouldn't until I finished Space story.
> 
> But, but, but. 
> 
> I'm having fun playing with Nicole's character in this one....
> 
> I promise to do my other homework....!
> 
> Enjoy

Christmas morning. Church bells could be heard in the distance. Snow had continued to fall throughout the night, turning the sky grey. Nicole watched its path for hours, descending in a rhythmical, peaceful pattern outside her bedroom window. Her mind singing Silent Night on repeat. The only carol to which she knew the words, replacing “sleep in heavenly peace” with “I’m the luckiest alive.” She was blissfully content. 

Bright sunshine blazed in through the large window. Waverly lay beside her, asleep. She had spent the night. A whole night. Admittedly, fully clothed, no touching, just lips. The softest imaginable. Sublime. The best Christmas ever. The best Christmas present ever. Nothing more needed in that moment, apart from a toilet. She needed to use the bathroom. Urgently.

Waverly stirred, turning over, mumbling. Her hair covered most of her face. Long, brown tresses cascading over her shoulder. Nicole was tempted to brush it back in case she suffocated, deciding it safer not to interfere with any part of Waverly’s body while she was sleeping. She had needed to use the bathroom for over an hour, too scared to move in case Waverly woke up. Something she wanted to see. Sleepy eyes greeting her.

She could wait no longer. She had to go. Her own body making the decision. Better to go than have to explain a wet patch on the bed. Far too early in the relationship. Pulling her legs over the side, she tiptoed across the room, making sure not to stand on the one loose floorboard that creaked in protest whenever stepped on. She made it to the door, turning the handle slowly, pulling it towards her, squeezing through the tiny gap she allowed herself.

Relief. She could hear a phone ringing in the lounge. Not her ringtone. Hers the Star Wars theme, earning looks in the store whenever it went off. Mostly her mother calling to say she and her step-father were having a lovely time somewhere in the world. The ringing stopped. She entered the lounge, spotting the phone on the coffee table, along with the remnants of their drinking session the night before. 

Returning to the bedroom, she placed it beside Waverly, sneaking back to her side. She had just made herself comfortable, selecting a novel she had been meaning to read from her bedside table, when the phone rang again. Louder than she realised. Waverly shot up, looking around, confused.

“Crap. Sorry, must have dozed off. What time is it?”

“A little after eight.”

“I’m supposed to be going to my sister’s.”

Nicole watched as Waverly sprang out of bed, looking for her boots. She noted how fantastic Waverly looked with bed hair.

“Can I use your bathroom?”

Nicole led the way, opening the door for Waverly to enter. She emerged a few moments later, her hair less ruffled. Nicole still outside. Perfection. Waverly was looking back into the bathroom.

“I know this is really cheeky of me, but could I use your shower?”

Nicole nodded, discreetly pinching her arm to check this was not a dream. Waverly was about to take a shower in her bathroom. 

“Do you have a towel?”

“A towel. Do I have a towel? I have a towel.” Nicole’s mind screaming at her to stop talking.

“If you have a spare one.”

Nicole didn’t move, gazing at Waverly, attempting to process the request.

“I don’t want to rush you, but…”

“Sorry, yes, a towel. I’m getting a towel. Be right back with a towel.”

Waverly tried to hold it in, but Nicole’s inability to get her a towel sent her into a fit of giggles.

“So cute. I don’t think you realise.”

Nicole beamed. The second time Waverly had called her cute. Her new friend, the person she had been in the same bed with, called her cute. Twice. Two times. Cute. Cute. Too cute.

“Towel?”

“Fuck. Sorry. Towel.” Nicole went to the cupboard extracting her best towel, handing it to Waverly.

She heard the shower, a rustling, presumably Waverly undressing. Her heart began to race. On the other side of that door Waverly was naked, showering, drying herself in her towel. Lucky towel, she thought, realising if she remained outside when Waverly emerged it would appear creepy. She would rather be called cute than creepy. Creepy cute? No, just cute. Cute, cute. 

She made her way to the kitchen, checking the fridge for anything vegan. An apple, orange juice. She hadn’t bothered shopping, enough eggs to see her through until lunch with Jeremy and Robin. The fridge in the café had been cleared in preparation of the bookstore being closed for a few days. There were potato chips and juice cartons. 

A loaf of bread. Still in date. Enough slices. No butter. She checked the cupboard. A jar of peanut butter, reading the label: Suitable for Vegans. Perfect. Chips and peanut butter toast. She heard the bathroom door open, returning to the hallway, watching Waverly towel dry her hair. 

“Would you like breakfast?”

“Coffee if you have it.”

“I have peanut butter and chips.”

“No coffee?”

“I didn’t check. The café has coffee. I think there’s almond milk.”

“No cake?”

“I can get cake. I’m not sure what’s open.”

Waverly giggled. “I’m teasing. Coffee, black.”

Nicole disappeared into the kitchen, her hands on the worktop her head leaning against the cupboard containing peanut butter. “Haught, seriously, keep it together. You’re an embarrassment.”

Waverly entered without her noticing. ”Haught. Nicole Haught. I like it.”

Nicole swung round, face the colour of beetroot. “Did you hear everything?”

Waverly nodded. “You’re not. You’re…”

“Cute.”

“Very.”

Very cute, she thought, could this day get any better. She ran downstairs to the café. The wood burner was out, the air frosty, her breath visible. The basement even colder. Two coffees made, a handful of snacks, she returned to the kitchen, placing everything on the large table in the centre. Waverly looked impressed. Their very own party on Christmas Day. 

Waverly had just taken a sip of coffee when her phone rang again. Her sister wondering where she was. She would need to leave shortly. Nicole couldn’t hide her disappointment. Her best Christmas ever coming to an end. Waverly’s sister would be round in fifteen minutes to collect her, the roads cleared of snow. 

A car horn told Nicole the end of their first unofficial date had arrived. She walked Waverly to the door, not sure whether to give her a goodbye kiss. She could see Waverly’s sister motioning for her to move faster.

Waverly stepped outside. “That was lovely. Look forward to doing this again. Happy Christmas Nicole Haught. So sexy.”

“You too. I’ll have cake next time.”

“You’d better. Call me.”

Nicole watched the car disappear. “Thank you Santa.”

She remembered she hadn’t cashed up, or tidied, or a hundred other jobs. Later. Who tidies on Christmas Day? She ran upstairs, locating the towel Waverly had used, lying on the bed embracing it in her arms. Her perfume on it. Her new favourite perfume in the world.

It hit her. She never got Waverly’s number. Her mind raced. Think Nicole, think. Where could she get the number from? Nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. Disaster. No longer able to enjoy her intimate moment with the towel, she wandered into the lounge. Too early for whiskey, although she could unhappily drink the remaining half of the bottle. 

Christmas was ruined. 

Waverly’s glass a reminder of a love lost. Her familiar shade of lipstick on the rim. Nicole lifted it to the light, studying the pattern of her lips. Lips she had touched. Lips she would never touch again. Too busy worrying about some stupid cake. 

She spied a small piece of paper Waverly had placed under the glass, torn from her journal. Hidden without her knowledge. She leant over, the paper in her hand:

Perfect evening. Perfect company. 

Thank you 

Love Waverly 

A mobile number underneath.


	3. That Alice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions...

A piece of paper. How could one small, torn piece of paper hold so much value? Nicole stared at it, committing the number to memory, before realising she needed to add it to her contacts list on her phone. She couldn’t wait to tell Robin what had transpired on Christmas Eve.

Robin was one of her employees. A total of four worked in the store, if you included the lady who ran the café in the basement. Not something Nicole got involved in, food, catering in general not her speciality. Robin was her favourite. He had worked for her aunt, easy going, super intelligent like his partner, Jeremy, allowing Nicole to indulge in random conversations about the most obscure subjects. Both vied to be the geekiest, Jeremy rolling his eyes as the conversation descended into a Google play off.

They were having Christmas lunch at one o’clock. Drinks from noon onwards. A collection of misfits gathered together to celebrate the consumption of turkey, brussel sprouts optional. Presents to be exchanged after the meal. Nicole needed to catch up on everything she hadn’t done while Waverly was in the store. Till cashed up, books replaced in orderly fashion, floors swept, she was done. 

She wondered what Waverly was doing right now. Probably helping prepare Christmas lunch with her sister. It felt good having Waverly’s number stored. She wanted to call. Not too soon, she counselled herself, she didn’t want to appear too keen. God, she wanted to call her, hear her voice. That giggle. The towel she used still lying on her bed. Way to creepy she would be sleeping with it later. Not something she would reveal to Robin. 

It was a short drive to Robin’s flat. The snow was thawing on pavements, the roads already clear. There were no other cars as she made her way across town, everyone enjoying a day of over-eating and TV watching. Two bottles of wine accompanied her on the passenger seat. An overnight bag and presents in the boot. A few guests had arrived by the time Nicole pulled up outside. Robin greeted her at the door, the perfunctory kissing on both cheeks. Very French. Neither knowing why they did this every time they met. A habit no one could bring themselves to stop. Wine deposited in kitchen, compliments given on the smell of Jeremy’s nut roast for those not partaking meat, she made her way into the lounge.

Robin introduced her. “This is Nicole. My boss. Trixie, Claire, Alastair and Joe.”

A round of nods and hellos ensued. She was dying to tell Robin about her evening, waiting for the right opportunity. It came as he made his way back to the kitchen for champagne refills.

“I’ve met someone. I’ve actually met someone.”

“Oh my God. Spill. Who?”

“The girl in the store. The one who sits in the big chair by the window, writing. The gorgeous, petite, green-eyed, long brown hair one.”

“Not the girl who comes in every Saturday?”

“The very same. We slept together.”

“Fuck me. You’re quick. Hold on. When did you meet her?”

“Yesterday evening. She couldn’t get a bus. Came back to the store.”

“Oh, Nicole. Good girl. I mean, I never had you pegged as a one night stand sort of person, but way to go.”

“Thanks. What? Sorry, no we didn’t sleep together. We slept together, as in the same bed.”

“That’s usually how it happens. Bless.”

“No, I mean she slept in the bed and I was next to her.”

“I know. You keep saying.”

“We had our clothes on.

“Kinky.”

“Seriously. Nothing happened apart from we slept together.”

“So, let me get this straight. You meet someone yesterday, invite her up to your flat, she stays the night, in the same bed as you, with her clothes on.”

“Correct.”

Robin shook his head. “So much to learn. So, so much to learn.”

Jeremy appeared in the kitchen. “How are the sprouts doing?”

“Nicole slept with someone last night. Fully clothed.”

“You know that’s not how it’s done.”

Robin grinned. “We’ll have to educate her on the facts of life.”

“I swear, I don’t know why I tell you half the things I tell you. Nothing happened. I wanted something to happen, but…”

Robin and Jeremy chimed in together. “You had your clothes on.”

Nicole rolled her eyes, deciding it best to return to the lounge where her non-love life would be less ridiculed.

Crackers pulled, paper hats worn, copious amounts of wine consumed, an afternoon sat in front of the TV to look forward to. Nicole helped clear the plates. Robin followed her into the kitchen laden with dishes of vegetables.

“Listen, sorry if we pulled your leg earlier. I’m really pleased for you. Is she nice?”

“Too good for me. She’s a writer. Storyteller. She’s writing about me at the moment.”

“Oh my God. You’ve got your very own stalker. Sorry, sorry. Seriously, she’s basing one of her stories on you?”

“She did this really cool thing.”

“With her clothes on?”

“Stop. Or, I won’t tell you.”

“Sorry. Carry on. Promise not to tease.”

“She made me guess who it was she was writing about. She’s watched me. I thought it was only me who did that. She knows things about me.”

“Do you have her number?”

“I don’t know when to ring her?”

“How about now. You can go in the bedroom. Say hi. Ask if she’s had a good Christmas.”

“I can’t. I mean I only just saw her a few hours ago.”

“OK. So, how long had you been meaning to ask this girl out?”

“Three months.”

“And, how long are you planning to leave it till you call her.”

“Three months.”

“Nicole. Ring her. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Robin had a point. She would call.

She closed the bedroom door behind her. Phone in hand, Waverly’s number poised to ring. She really wanted to. One press. Do it, do it, she urged herself. She placed her finger on the call symbol. The phone rang. Should she hang up? No, that would look odd. One missed call from an unknown number. She continued to let it ring. A woman’s voice answered. 

“Hi, who’s this?”

“Nicole. Nicole Haught. The book seller. The person in the book store.”

“Hi, Nicole Haught. Did you want Waverly?”

“Yes, if she’s there. Who’s this?”

“Wynonna. She’s with Alice. I can get her.”

“No. It’s fine. Just checking she’s OK.”

“I’ll tell her you called.”

“Thanks. Merry Christmas.”

Nicole hung up. Waverly was with Alice, whoever Alice was. Crestfallen she returned to the lounge, the look on her face telling Robin things hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped. He looked over, his eyes attempting to ask what had happened. 

“She’s with Alice.”

“Oh, Nicole. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you make that call. Listen, you had a great time with her. You never know.”

Nicole nodded. She wanted to leave, return to her empty bookstore, down the remaining whiskey. She’d promised Robin and Jeremy she’d stay over, play Monopoly, keep them company. The other guests departed, the three sat side by side on the couch, Die Hard the Christmas movie lined up to play next. She had been quiet for most of the afternoon. Robin offered her an After Eight mint, she declined.

She heard her phone ringing in the bedroom. Probably her mother realising it was Christmas. She hadn’t seen her in three years. Her father’s death had changed her. She was finally free and intended to make the most of that freedom. Nicole was glad she was doing things she had never been able to when married, but worried her step-father was merely using her money to have a good time. 

It was Waverly. She answered. Waverly was in a good mood. She asked how Nicole’s Christmas had been. Thanked her again for letting her stay over, making her breakfast, being the perfect host.

“Who’s Alice?”

“Alice. She’s my niece. Why?”

“Your sister said you were with Alice. I wasn’t sure.”

“That’s Wynonna for you. Never a straight answer, when a crooked one will do.”

“I wasn’t. I didn’t think you and…”

“Oh, right. No, I’m not with anyone. Is that what you’re asking?”

“No. I mean. I just assumed someone like you would be.”

“Like me?”

Nicole was glad they weren’t on Facetime. “You know.”

“No. Tell me.”

“Attractive.”

“You think I’m attractive?”

“Yes. Is that OK?”

“Finding me attractive. Of course. More than you can ever imagine. So, any skeletons in your closet?”

“I’m married.”

The silence at the other end of the phone told Nicole this new piece of information had caught Waverly off-guard.

“Married. Right. Shame.”

“Was. Separated. Haven’t seen Shae in over a year.”

“Nice name. How long were you together?”

“Two years.”

Another pause. “Do you fancy a drink tomorrow?”

“Yes. Are you OK with me being separated?”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

“It’s OK. Wasn’t meant to be. I can pick you up?”

“I’ll text you the address. Her loss.”

Nicole sat looking at her phone. Christmas was turning into an emotional rollercoaster.

Elation, depression, back to elation. 

She needed a drink.


	4. That doll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole and Waverly go on a first date...

A mountain of clothes lay on Nicole’s bed. She had no idea what to wear for her date with Waverly. She had tried on almost every outfit, twice, nothing seemed to capture what she wanted to say with her body. She remembered Waverly’s comment about hiding her form. It was true. Since her split with Shae she had hidden herself away, not wanting attention, a shadow of her former self. 

She rummaged through the pile once more. One skinny pair of jeans, black. Check. One tight-fitting shirt, black. Check. Boots. Where were her boots? She found them in the corner of the living room, having no idea how they ended up there. Outfit complete, she attempted to apply a layer of war paint, failing to make it look natural. Her reflection said painted Russian doll. She removed most of what she had applied, deciding make-up free was her look. 

Two hours to go. The address Waverly had supplied already searched on Google maps, switching to Street View to check out the property. Modern, expensive, in the posh part of town. Whoever Waverly’s sister was she had money. Lots by the size of the house. Intriguing rather than intimidating. Nicole’s family had a few pennies to rub together. She grew up around wealthy people. It only bothered her when she saw those who had money acting like idiots around those who had not. 

One hour to go. She had suggested a lunchtime drink. The pub would be quieter, post-Christmas, a chance to continue getting to know each other. Her dating experience had been non-existent in recent years, or flirting for that matter. Everything felt new again. Exciting. Really scary. She could feel her anxiety levels rising just at the thought of sitting in a public bar having a drink with the girl of her recent dreams.

Her mobile rang. Waverly’s number.

“Hi, sorry. Something’s come up. Can we postpone?”

“Sure. No problem. Another time.”

“Thanks. I meant for a few hours. I still want to see you.”

“Oh, right. Great. What time?”

“Three?”

“Three’s perfect. Same pick up place?”

“Please. Sorry about this. I’ll explain when I see you.”

“Honestly, it’s fine. Really, I’d come for you anytime.”

There was a pause, then a giggle. “Did you mean to say that?”

Nicole replayed the words in her head. “What I meant was, if I come for you…”

“Stop, before I wet myself. You’re beyond cute. See you later. I’m glad you’re coming for me.”

That rollercoaster feeling. High, low, high, low. It seemed to be a pattern. Early days she hoped. At least Waverly called her beyond cute, whatever that meant. And, her mind was clearly thinking along similar lines. She would happily come for Waverly. 

Nicole sat outside the house. Ten minutes early. Too soon to go in. Tasteful Christmas lights placed around the front door, a small sign telling Santa to visit lodged in one of the large grey pots standing guard either side. One minute to three, Nicole rang the doorbell, waiting, wondering if Waverly would invite her in. Her sister answered, casually dressed in a festive onesie, a glass of champagne in one hand. 

“Come in. Waverly’s still getting ready. So slow. Go up if you like.”

“No, I’m fine, I’ll stand here if that’s OK.”

Wynonna studied Nicole. “At least come into the lounge.”

Nicole followed. A small child sat at a table by the window, drawing. She looked up as Nicole entered, returning to her artwork.

“Alice, say hi to Nicole.”

The little girl continued to draw. “Alice, don’t be rude. This is Auntie Waverly’s new friend.”

Alice looked up. 

“She owns a bookstore.”

Alice’s face lit up. “I can read.”

Nicole approached the table. “Wow, that’s great. You can come and choose a book.”

“Can I?”

“Thank you,” Wynonna said. “We’re struggling on the reading front. She loves stories read to her.”

“I run a book club Saturdays, pop in.”

“Might just do that. Although, don’t want to cramp Waves.”

“She sits upstairs away from the kids.”

“Sounds like Waves. Honestly, where is she?”

Wynonna left the room, leaving Nicole hovering over the table looking at Alice’s picture.

“That’s really good. Those trees are excellent. Well done.”

“Not trees. That’s mummy and that’s Way.”

“Of course. Silly me.”

Waverly entered the room. “Sorry, sorry, minor crisis. All sorted. Shall we go?”

Nicole waved at Alice as she left the room. Alice waved back.

“You seem to have hit it off with Alice.”

“Kind of. I thought her people were trees.”

Waverly laughed. “You’re just the tonic I need today.”

The pub was eerily quiet. A little way out of town, old-fashioned, nothing special. Cosy. Intimate. A log fire burning filling the pub with that distinctive bonfire smell. Perfect for a cold winter’s day. Waverly took a seat near the window, Nicole headed to the bar for the first round. She could hear Waverly’s phone ping several times, Waverly looking flustered as she read the messages.

Nicole placed a drink in front of her. “Everything OK?”

“Just some jerk.” She lifted her glass. “Cheers. How was your Christmas?”

“Good. Better for speaking with you.”

“I was kind of hoping you’d call. I really enjoyed our night together.”

“Robin thought it hilarious we kept our clothes on. Oh no. Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s OK. It was very romantic. Thank you.”

“I didn’t tell them you were naked in my bathroom.”

“Just as well. God, you’re funny.”

“Funny?”

“Trust me. I need someone like you in my life. Someone who makes me forget.”

“Forget?”

Waverly took a sip of her drink. “My ex. Likes to screw with my mind.”

“Right. Married. That figures.”

“Lived together. Not married. He’s holding our flat hostage. What do you mean, figures?”

“I guessed you would have someone in your life.”

“Wish I didn’t. Wish I’d never met him. Wynonna’s been wonderful. Went through a really bad patch.”

“Can’t imagine you being unhappy. You always seem upbeat.”

“Trust me, I’ve had a few dark days.”

Nicole wanted to hug her, tell her all the dark days were over, that she would do everything in her power to make her happy. 

“I was going to bring cake. Seem to be obsessed with it. Things get stuck in my head.”

“I’m a little disappointed.”

“Oh no. I should have. We can stop off on our way back.”

Waverly laughed. “Is this how it’s going to be?”

Nicole nodded. “I get stressed. I should wear a t-shirt with Open Mouth Insert Foot on it.”

“I think what you’re wearing is perfect. Very you.”

“I spent ages after what you said. It’s true, I don’t like my body much.”

“Seriously? If I had a body like yours I’d flaunt it to the max. And, your amazing hair. It’s the first thing I noticed about you.”

“Always been embarrassed about my hair. Got called names because of it and my height.”

“Probably jealous.”

“You think? I assumed they hated me.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make me laugh and cry. You know I could hug you.”

“Here?”

“Oh, my God. You take everything literally. Yes, I would love to hug you here, but you have a car.”

“Right. Do you want me to get the car?”

“Shall we have another drink first?”

They stayed until early evening. Nicole drove Waverly back via the scenic route, desperate to prolong their time together. She parked a little way down the road, unfastening her seatbelt. Waverly placed a hand on her knee making her jump, sending Waverly into a fit of giggles.

“This is like being back in school.” Waverly said. “It feels very naughty.”

“I didn’t have a car when I was in school. Would have been fun.”

“We’ll have to make up for that.”

She leant over, placing a kiss on Nicole’s cheek. “I’d better go, Wynonna will be wondering where I am. See you in the store.”

Nicole watched as Waverly made her way up the road into the driveway. She wanted to chase after her, hug her. She definitely wanted to kiss her. Unfinished business. She liked Waverly, really liked Waverly. Her emotions soaring and crashing.

Rollercoaster.


	5. That story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No better way to spend New Year's Eve...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little gift from me to you for Christmas.
> 
> Happy holidays & here's to a fan fiction filled 2020.
> 
> ps. If you want to know what song I'm channelling: Nat King Cole - Three Little Words...

Nicole turned the sign in the window to ‘Open.’ Robin was busy unpacking a new shipment of books, ready to go on the shelves. He could see Nicole at the front desk preparing the cash register for the day’s business. No customers yet, both hoping the day would be quieter than Christmas Eve. The café would remain closed until the New Year, the only other member of staff still off sick. An elderly gentleman, retained by Nicole as a favour to her aunt. Not the most productive worker, but he was an old friend of the family and well, part of the store. 

“So, how was your date?” Robin asked.

“Good. Not married, problems with her ex. He kept texting her.”

“At least he’s an ex. Not a current.”

“True. She seems OK with Shae.”

“Any plans for date number two?”

“No. Said she’ll see me in the store, which I’m guessing will be Saturday. Ages away.”

“Text her. You could always invite her to ours New Year’s Eve.”

“I couldn’t, could I? I mean I don’t really know her.”

“You’ve slept with her. I’d say that’s fairly high up on the getting to know scale.”

“I keep telling you, we…”

“I know. Kept your clothes on. Text her, say you had a great time. Mention our little party. You’ve nothing to lose.”

“Right. Nothing to lose. What if she says no?”

“Then, she’ll know you were thinking about her.”

“Right. Can’t stop thinking about her. That’s the problem.”

“Text her, or I will. Give me your phone.”

“No. Absolutely not. The last time you did that my mother called asking if I was back on drugs.”

“Funny though.”

“Not funny. Actually, Waves said I was funny. Never thought of myself as funny. Socially awkward, anxiety prone, uncanny ability to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

“You are funny. We laugh at you all the time.”

Nicole shot Robin a look. “I really should fire you.”

“See, you’re being funny right there. Always cracking jokes like that.”

Robin danced off leaving Nicole to the task of texting Waverly. She didn’t know what to put. Keep it simple stupid, she repeated, nothing fancy. A short message, not an essay. Her hand reached for her phone. She had forgotten she put it on silent during their date in the pub, not wanting to disturb her moment with Waverly. 

One message. Received 7.14am. 

Waverly: Thanks for yesterday. Free Saturday night?

Nicole: Yes. Do you want to come to a party with me? We r playing Monopoly.

She stood looking at her phone, waiting for a response. Robin danced past in the opposite direction.

“Have you sent it?”

“She sent me one. She wants to know if I’m free Saturday night.”

“This is so exciting. Go, go, go.”

“I told her about your party.”

“For the love of God, tell me you didn’t ask her to play Monopoly with us when she’s asking you out on a date.”

“OK, so when you put it like that.”

Nicole’s phone flashed with a message.

“It’s Waves. She says, Wynonna having a few friends over. Monopoly sounds more fun!”

“She’s a keeper. Definitely a keeper. She gets our weird shit.” Robin danced off again. “Wait till I tell Jeremy.”

Nicole: Great. See you Saturday. 

Nicole: Sorry. Can you remind Wynonna re book for Alice.

Nicole: Sorry. Sorry. Does Alice want to come to the book club?

Waverly: You know you can call me…! 

Nicole rang the number. “Hi, it’s me.”

“I haven’t played Monopoly in years. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“For Monopoly? No, I don’t think so. It’s just a game.”

“Where did I find you? And, if you say the bookstore. I meant drinks, nibbles. And, before you say cake, I’ll bring some.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“Adorable. Intriguing. Refreshing.”

“Wow. Don’t know what to say.”

“I’ll be in the store Saturday. I’ll remind Wynonna to drop by with Alice. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I’ve thought of three words for you.”

“Sorry, need to go. Tell me Saturday.”

And, just like that, Nicole had a second date on New Year’s Eve no less. 

The rest of the week went by in a haze. Nicole couldn’t contain her excitement as Saturday approached. She knew Waverly usually arrived early afternoon, writing for a few hours, popping to the basement around four for her usual refreshments. With the café closed she had purchased a selection of vegan cakes in readiness. Coffee on the house.

Saturday morning dragged. Too many customers, with too many questions and too little common sense, her eyes constantly checking the door every time the bell rang on opening. Early afternoon came, no sign of Waverly. The book club was about to start, a group of excited children sat towards the back of the store waiting for Nicole to come and read the story. She spotted Wynonna enter with Alice, making her way over to welcome them.

“Sorry, are we late? Forgot what time it starts.”

“Just in time. Alice can choose a book afterwards.”

“Waverly had to go to London. Long story, I’ll tell you afterwards.”

Rollercoaster. Elation, depression, elation, depression.

“Right. Shame.”

Nicole took Alice’s hand. “Are you ready to hear a story?”

“Please. I know which book I want.”

“Do you? Which one?”

“A big one.”

“My favourite kind.”

Alice sat enthralled as Nicole read the story: Where the Wild Things Are. A hush over the audience as Nicole led the children through the imaginary world. She was a natural. Her ability to hold their attention gaining a round of applause from the parents who stood at the edge of the story circle.

Wynonna came over afterwards. “I must get that book. You’re very good.”

“Thank you. Kids get so caught up in their imagination.”

“Alice definitely enjoyed herself. I can see us making this a regular outing.”

Alice tugged Nicole’s shirt. “Can I have my book now?”

Wynonna pulled her hand away. “Alice, how rude. Sorry, no manners. I blame the parents.”

“Of course you can. Shall we go have a look at the big books?”

Alice nodded, Wynonna following on behind.

“Did Waverly call you?”

“No. Will she be back this evening?”

“Hope so. Did she mention her ex?”

Nicole nodded. “Is that where she is?”

“God no. She’s at her publishers.”

“Right. Not the ex.”

“Definitely not the ex. Did a lot of damage. Nearly destroyed her. I’d swear if Alice wasn’t present. Waverly says you’re married.”

“Was.”

“Fair enough. Waverly’s been through a lot. She probably won’t say and I shouldn’t either.”

“I like her. I’m hoping she likes me.”

“Oh, she likes you. Won’t shut up. Nicole this. Nicole that. Had to come and check you out for myself. Don’t want to see her hurt again.”

“Big sister.”

“Too right. Big sister.”

Alice ran towards them with a large book in her hands. “Mummy can I have this, please.”

“Alice, dear, that’s a cookbook.”

“I like the pictures.”

“If you want that one and mummy says it’s OK you can have it.”

“Please. Please.”

“Great. Now I’ll have to do baking with her. Are you sure? This is very generous of you.”

“Of course. If that’s what she wants.”

Nicole escorted them to the door. “Should I call her?”

“Sure. She’d like that. Good to meet you and thanks again for the book.”

Alice waved as she left the shop. One very happy little girl. Of all the books she could have chosen, a book on baking. Waverly is going to have a field day when she finds out, Nicole thought, closing the door.

She waited until the store was quiet to call. “Hi, Wynonna said it was OK to call you. Is it OK?”

“I’m on my way back. What a day. I’m exhausted.”

“So, you don’t want to go to the party?”

“Of course I want to go. Looking forward to it. Can I be cheeky and ask you to pick me up from the station. Train gets in 7.30. I can get a cab if it’s not.”

“No. I’ll pick you up. Do you need to go home before the party? I can drive you there.”

“Hadn’t thought that far. Yes, sorry. Now, I feel dreadful. Promise I’ll drive next time.”

“Honestly, I don’t mind com…”

She could hear Waverly laughing. “You were, weren’t you?”

“I can’t help myself. I get flustered around you.”

“Alice enjoyed herself. She was very excited on the phone. You’re her new best friend.”

“Before you say anything I promise I didn’t choose that book.”

“She loves it. Wynonna didn’t say what it was.”

“A book on cakes.”

“Perfect. Had to be.”

Nicole watched as the train pulled in. Passengers disembarked, Waverly leaving the last carriage. She waited for her to emerge from the station, flashing her lights to show her where she was.

Waverly sighed as she got in. “This is really kind of you. Sorry, I really should have got a cab.”

“No, it’s fine. Makes more sense. Where to?”

“Not far from Wynonna’s. I'll direct you.”

They made their way through town. Christmas lights strung from lampposts, casting a festive glow over empty streets. The occasional couple heading to the pub for a boozy night ahead. Waverly was on her phone texting most of the journey, looking up only to guide Nicole to her flat. They pulled up outside a modern apartment block, Nicole unsure whether to wait in the car or follow. Waverly could sense Nicole’s uncertainty, making the choice for her. She left her in the lounge while she went to get ready.

Top floor. Spacious, modern, very feminine. Nicole liked it immediately. She stood looking at photos of Alice as a baby, a photo of an older couple, presumably her parents, no photos of Waverly. No photos of any boyfriend. A large collection of books along one wall. She scanned the titles, many of which she had read. Nicole was impressed with her selection.

Waverly emerged towelling her hair, a dressing gown over her outfit. Nicole had a book in her hand, flicking through the pages. “You like Alice Makepeace?”

“She’s OK.”

“I love her. You have all her books. Best romance writer by far.”

“Right. Do you find her work flowery?”

“No. Quite the opposite. Her ability to convey genuine emotion is the best I’ve read.”

Waverly removed her dressing gown. “Say it. Too much?” 

“You look. I’m sorry I shouldn’t.”

“It is too much.”

“It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. Now I feel underdressed.”

“I can change if you like?”

“No. Please. It’s…”

“Thank you. So used to being told I’m fat, or slutty. Forgotten what it’s like having someone appreciate what I wear.”

“Who would ever say that to you?”

“A certain someone who isn’t as polite as you. I’m not going to talk about him, not tonight. Shall we, I don’t want us to be late for Monopoly.”

“Right. Are you sure you’re OK playing Monopoly. We can go somewhere else if you want.”

“Stop worrying. This is...”

“Perfect?”

“Perfect.”

Robin took Waverly’s coat. “Girl you know how to dress.”

“Now I’m feeling overdressed.”

“Jeremy come and meet Waverly.”

Jeremy popped his head out from the kitchen. “Hi. Wow, Robin said you’re good looking. Pleased to meet you.”

“Guys, can you stop ogling my girlfriend. No, sorry. I mean, my friend, who’s a girl and in no way. Although. But, we.”

The three looked at Nicole bursting into laughter. Waverly took Nicole’s hand. “I’d say yes.”

Jeremy disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing with an opened bottle of champagne. “This calls for bubbles. Everyone grab a seat. Let the game commence.”

Several hours into the game they paused to welcome in the New Year. One minute to go, glasses raised, some programme on the TV counting down the last seconds. 

Three, two, one. Midnight. 

Waverly turned to Nicole. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year. Is it OK if I kiss you?”

The softest of kisses. A spectacular way to start a new year. Nicole gazed into Waverly's eyes. "I have my three words."

“I'd forgotten. OK, hit me.”

“Be my girlfriend.”


	6. That chair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole knows the perfect place for their third date...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'm working on The Space Between Us (OK, I'm procrastinating, you caught me).
> 
> Here's another chapter while I write the other one.
> 
> Happy New Year everyone.
> 
> Anyway, moving on...

The game abandoned, the four sat talking into the early hours. Robin had discreetly offered the spare room. Nicole declined, preferring to take her time, enjoy the journey, not rush what was unfolding. In truth, she was nervous. She had made mistakes in her marriage, mistakes she did not want to repeat, preferring to explore Waverly’s mind before she explored her body.

The roads were quiet as they made their way back to Waverly’s flat. Nicole walked her to the door, waiting as Waverly rummaged through her oversized bag for her key.

“It’s in here somewhere. Do you want to come in?”

“Better not. Might not leave. No, I mean, I’d leave. Why do you do this to me?”

“Can you promise me one thing?”

“Anything, name it.”

“Don’t ever change.”

“Could you pinch me. Or, slap me. Both, I don’t mind.”

“I’m glad we finally got together.”

“I’m glad it snowed.”

“Are you sure you won’t pop in, just for a while. I need the bathroom.”

“Nearly wet myself the first time you stayed. And, now you’re thinking I lack bladder control.”

“That’s it. Gotta go or I’ll be the one wetting myself. And, you definitely don’t want to come in?”

“I want to. Really want to. Don’t want to rush this.”

“You were only getting coffee. OK, call me.”

Waverly closed the door. Nicole stood looking at the door. She knocked. 

Waverly opened the door, grinning. “You’ve changed your mind.”

“When do I call you?”

“Oh, say in seventeen minutes.”

Waverly closed the door.

The race was on. Nicole sped through town. She entered her flat with one minute to spare, sitting on the couch panting, waiting for the requisite time to appear on her phone.

“How did you know?”

“Googled our locations. Wanted to see how far away you are from me.” 

“You OK us being girlfriends?”

“Why do you put yourself down all the time?”

“I don’t know. It’s just. I like you.”

“Tell me about Shae. How did you meet?”

“University climbing club. Kind of inevitable. Only gays in the group.”

“Did you love her?”

“Loved her intelligence.”

“Enough to marry her?”

“Shae gave me an ultimatum, I panicked. Does it bother you?”

“We all have pasts. Knew I’d never marry my ex. Should never have moved in with him. Such a fool not to have seen what he was doing.”

“Sometimes bad things happen so we know the good.”

“True. Mind you, could have done without the bad.”

“Where do you want our next date to be?”

“Somewhere romantic. Surprise me.”

“I’ll let you rest. You looked beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you. See, you do know how to say the right things.”

“Trust me, I was about to compliment you on not wetting yourself.”

She could hear Waverly laughing. “Too funny. Happy New Year Nicole Haught.”

Nicole hugged her phone before placing it on the coffee table. She was going to get this relationship right, even if it killed her. She now had to find somewhere romantic for their third date. She ran through a number of possible locations until one flashed in her mind. Perfect, she thought, as she turned off the light in the lounge, heading to the bedroom.

The bookstore was closed New Year’s Day. Ideal for what Nicole had in mind. She was up early, heading to the larger supermarket in the next town, a list in hand for what she would need. Items purchased, she returned to the store, cleaning out the wood burner, starting a new fire. She hoped Waverly would like what she was planning.

One o’clock. She called Waverly’s number. No answer. She left a rambling voicemail, wishing she had thought through what she was going to say before committing herself. An hour went by, two hours. Three. She wondered whether she should call her again. One more call. No answer. She left another voicemail. Apologising for the previous voicemail, still as rambling.

She knew Waverly had got home safely. She knew her phone was working. Maybe it was on silent. Maybe she had other plans. Maybe she didn’t want to speak to her. She sat looking at all her efforts. She would have to remove them before the store opened the next day. She returned to her flat, sitting on the couch, staring at her phone. Where was she?

Rollercoaster.

It rang. “I’m so sorry. Left my phone on charge while I popped to Wynonna’s. Can I still come over?”

“Of course. Was worried.”

“I know. Heard your messages. So sweet. See you in seventeen minutes.”

Nicole was waiting by the door. She saw Waverly peering in, holding up a cake. 

“God, it’s freezing out. More snow on the way,” Waverly announced, as she entered.

“Shall we.”

She led Waverly through the store up the stairs towards her favourite chair. The lights in the bookstore were already dimmed. Fairy lights decorated the surrounding bookshelves, a small table laid out with party food. She took the cake from Waverly. 

“Alexa, play Ed Sheeran - Perfect.”

“Love this song.”

“Too cheesy? Wasn’t sure if this was enough of a surprise.”

“No, it’s perfect. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Can I tell you something?”

“What is it?”

“Had a few lousy years. So many times I could have given up, but Wynonna kept saying dawn will come. And, she was right. Because, I’m here.”

“Wynonna hinted you’d been through a rough patch.”

“Did she do the big sister act?”

Nicole nodded.

“She’s very protective after what happened.”

“Can you tell me?”

“Not yet, if that’s OK. I don’t want to spoil this moment.”

Nicole took Waverly’s hand. They danced. Their first dance. A kiss neither wanted to end.

Nicole eventually broke away. “I usually make a mess of everything. I don’t want to make a mess with you. I mean, I do want to make a mess with you. Nope. That’s word jumble. Think Nicole before you open your mouth. OK, what I want is, what I want is for this to be perfect for you. That’s it.”

“It is. Honestly, after what I’ve been through. But, please don’t try too hard. This is perfect and you’re perfect as you are. Seriously. No fancy stuff. Well, apart from this. This I like. I could get used to this.”

“Alexa, play Carly Rae Jepsen - I Really Like You.”

It had stopped snowing by the time Waverly left. A light covering, not enough to abandon her journey home. Nicole walked her to her car.

“I’m in London for a few days.” Waverly said.

“Can I call you?”

“You’d better.”

Nicole watched her car disappear, standing gazing at an empty road once it turned the corner. Turning the lights off, checking the wood burner, she headed upstairs, deciding to leave tidying till the morning, not wanting to disturb the remnants of a magical evening. She would have time in the morning.

7.14am. Nicole was busy removing fairy lights and glasses. A perfect evening. She spotted it. Waverly’s phone, resting on the table, partially hidden by a paper napkin. Robin would be arriving in half an hour. She would need to let him in. She needed to get the phone to Waverly. Decisions, decisions. Leave Robin outside, deliver the phone to Waverly, who may have already left for London. 

She called Robin. “Waverly left her phone. I need to get it to her.”

“Do you want me to come in earlier?”

“No. It’s fine. I’ll call you when I’m back.”

Nicole sped through town, arriving at Waverly’s, ringing the buzzer. No answer. She had missed her. Waverly’s phone in her hand, deliberating whether to head to the station, a message flashed up:

H: Sign over the flat or I release the photos.

Nicole read the text over and over. Waverly’s ex, the one who had caused her so much trouble, was blackmailing her.

She called Robin. “I still have her phone. She’s gone.”

“Doesn’t her sister live nearby?”

“Right. Good thinking. Thanks.”

Nicole knocked on Wynonna’s door. No answer. Knocking again, she saw a light come on, Wynonna shouting to hold on. The door opened. She stared at Nicole, confusion on her face.

“Waverly left her phone at the bookstore.”

“Right. Thanks. Do you want to come in?”

“If it’s OK.”

Wynonna led the way to the kitchen, pointing to a breakfast bar, pulling out two cups. 

“Kind of you to drop it off.”

“Tried her flat but she’s already left for London. Figured you might have a number where you can reach her.”

Wynonna nodded, still half asleep.

“There was a message from H.”

Wynonna’s body tensed, swinging round to look at Nicole. “What did it say?”

“He wants Waverly to sign over the flat. Otherwise he’ll release the photos.”

Wynonna slammed a cup on the granite work surface, shattering the base. “That low life. If she hasn’t suffered enough with him.”

“Is this what she’s had to go through?”

“Absolute scum. Waverly didn’t want you to know. But, you have a right if you’re seeing her. Her ex is a parasite. Never loved her. Only loved what she represented. Complete user.”

Nicole stared at Wynonna in disbelief.

“It’s why she moved here. To get away from him. I know I’m her sister, but she has so much to give and this rat, this vermin, this, he’s hell-bent on destroying her.”

“I’d better go. I need to open up the store. Can you call me when you reach her? Let me know she’s OK.”

“I’m sorry. This isn’t fair on you.”

“It’s OK. Really. I’m glad I know.”

Robin was standing outside the store as she approached. She unlocked the door, letting him in before her, standing at the cash register, not wanting the day to continue. 

“Hey, tell me or I break your legs.”

“Please. Not now.”

“Tell me. What’s happened?”

“Waverly’s ex is blackmailing her.”

Robin was silent, for once. No comeback line, no joke. He approached, knowing she was struggling to process what she now knew. “You’re there for her.”

“What do I do?”

Robin placed a hand on her arm. “This problem was there before you knew her. What’s important is you’re here for her now. She likes you. Jeremy said the vibe between you two was amazing. You know she kept looking over during the game.”

“Did she?”

“Trust me, this girl is into you. Big time.”

“I like her. I really like her. I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“I know. You’re a kind heart. She knows that. Heck, she knows you’re a lovable dork.”

“Have you just complimented me with an insult?”

Robin nodded. “Listen, I love you. Jeremy loves you and by the looks of it Waverly kinda digs you. We’re a pretty amazing team. We’ll fight this together. Do you want a power hug?”

Nicole shook her head.

“Go on. You know you do,” Robin insisted, opening his arms.

Nicole accepted the offer, standing in the front of the store hugging her employee.

“This is so awkward,” Nicole said after a few moments.

“Yep. Let’s never do this again.”


	7. That text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Communication is everything...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry.
> 
> For some reason the last chapter (No. 6) got lost in translation somewhere in AO3. 
> 
> If you've not read that chapter, I suggest reading Chapter 6 before reading Chapter 7. 
> 
> And, now I realise where Nicole's character for this story came from...!
> 
> Anyway, moving on...

Customers came and went. Nicole struggled to remain focused on what she was supposed to be doing, her mind fixated on that text. What sort of person could do such a mean-spirited thing, she wondered. Robin kept looking over, giving her a thumbs up. She was glad of his support. He was right. This problem may have been there before, but she was here now, determined to show Waverly she had her full support. 

Her phone rang. “Hi, it’s me.”

“Waverly?”

“Thanks for returning my phone. I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on.”

“Are you OK?”

“Yes, fine. I can’t stay long.”

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to, but I saw a text.”

There was a pause. “Can’t talk right now. You free for dinner Wednesday?”

“Shall I book somewhere?”

“I was thinking my flat. 7.30pm.”

“Would you like me to come to London with your phone? I can get it from Wynonna. Robin can manage the store.”

“Oh, my God. You’d do that. You really would. No, it’s fine. I’ll manage.”

“Look. I’m here for you. OK. Or, in London if you want me.”

“I know. Seriously, I can cope without a phone for a few days. But, thank you. That’s a really kind gesture. And, I know you would in a heartbeat.”

“Really, it’s no trouble.”

“Stop worrying. I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tonight from the hotel. Say 9ish.”

It was reassuring to hear Waverly’s voice. She really would travel all the way to London to get the phone to her. In a heartbeat. The bookstore closed, chores completed, meal for one eaten, she sat waiting for Waverly to call. 

9.30pm. No call. She wished she’d asked the name of where she was staying in London. She was learning Waverly wasn’t the most reliable when it came to communications. She would have preferred her not to set a time, that way she would not be sitting, staring at her phone willing it to ring. She went downstairs, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a blanket in the other, heading to Waverly’s favourite chair. 

The bookstore was cold. Too cold to sit in. She didn’t care. She wanted to feel connected the only way she knew how. She placed the glass on the small table she had left in place after their party, throwing the blanket over the back of the chair, wondering what book to choose. The benefit of having your own bookstore. She scanned the nearby shelves. Something romantic, well-written. Her eyes were drawn to the middle row. She extracted one, returning to the chair, pulling her feet up under her, tucking the blanket over her legs. She wished she had put on an extra jumper. 

She studied the cover. The Way We Were by Alice Makepeace. The book she had flicked through while Waverly got ready in her flat. She had read five, planning to read the remaining five. Several chapters in, her phone rang, startling her. 

“Hi, sorry. Only just got back.”

“It’s fine. How was your day?”

“Never-ending meetings. Then we had to go for a meal. I’m exhausted. How was your day?”

“Busy. I hugged Robin.”

“Right. You usually do that?”

“No. It was a power hug. Very awkward.”

“Why were you power hugging? No, never mind. What goes on in the store, stays in the store.”

“I’m sitting in your chair reading Alice Makepeace.”

“Which one?”

“Number six. Needed cheering up.”

“Chapter seventeen is a tear-jerker, just to warn you. Why do you need cheering up?”

“Silly really. Knowing you’d got that text and not being able to call you.”

“That’s not silly. It’s sweet of you. I’m used to that idiot. Really, it’s fine. My legal team are onto it. It’s unfortunate. Please don’t worry. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Worse?”

“Do you mind if we don’t talk about him right now. I don’t want his mind games to be part of what we have. I don’t want him creeping back into my life. The more I tell you, the more I feel he’s winning. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Completely. I’m sorry you have to go through this. I really am here for you. I wish I was in London holding your hand.”

“You are holding my hand right now. Sort of.”

“I'm holding a book and a phone. That’s not you.”

“Shae was a fool to let you go. Can I give you a number for where I’ll be tomorrow?”

“Sure. Wait, I don’t have a pen. I’m now running downstairs looking for a pen. No pen. Where did Robin put the pens? I have a pen. No paper. For heaven’s sake. Where’s he put the paper? Right, I now have a piece of paper. No, no, no. Pen doesn’t work. I have another pen. OK, ready.”

“Stop. I’m crying with laughter. Here’s the number I’ll be on during the day and here’s the hotel number. I’d better get my beauty sleep. Don’t stay up too late with Alice Makepeace.”

"I won’t. I’m taking her to bed with me. She can keep me warm.”

Lights switched off in the bookstore, Nicole headed up to her flat, book and a piece of paper in her hand. The second most important piece of paper in Nicole’s life. Numbers for Waverly.

Robin was early for a change. She told him about the invite to Waverly’s flat, he looking at her in amusement. “Wednesday is our late night. We don’t close till eight.”

“I’m supposed to be over there at 7.30pm.”

“I can lock up for you.”

“Thanks. Appreciate that. No, wait, I have the women’s book club from seven.”

“OK. I’ll do that as well.”

Nicole looked at Robin. “The last time you took a book club I received fourteen complaints from parents. Surprised we weren’t closed down.”

“To be fair, that was partly your fault suggesting I read them a book about colours.”

“Fifty Shades of Grey is not for children.”

“The women’s book club will enjoy that one.”

“I’ll call Waverly. Rearrange.”

The number rang. “Good morning. HarperCollins, how may I help?”

“Could I speak to Waverly Earp please?”

“One moment. Putting you through.”

“I’m in the middle of a meeting.”

“Sorry. Only, I close late on Wednesdays.” 

“Do you want to come over later?”

“Please. 8.30pm if that’s OK. Your publisher is HarperCollins.”

“8.30. Perfect. I really have to go.”

Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough. Nicole closed the store, checked the wood burner, headed to her flat to get ready, allowing enough time to drive to Waverly’s. Bottle of red in one hand, she rang the buzzer. Waverly let her in, taking the lift to the top floor. She was looking forward to seeing her, catching up.

Waverly opened the door, attempting a smile. Nicole could see she had been crying.

“What’s wrong?”

“The usual. Come in. Sorry about this. I wanted a perfect evening with you. He manages to ruin everything.”

“Has he sent more texts?”

Waverly nodded. “I’m sorry. We can do this another night.”

“No. I’m staying, if you want me to. Please, you don’t have to face this on your own.”

“I’ve not even started dinner. I’m a lousy host.”

“We can order a takeaway. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you can’t bottle this up. It’s upsetting you.”

“I’m going to give him the flat. I’ve decided. I want him out of my life. Forever.”

“Are you sure? What does your legal team say?”

“They want me to go to court. I can’t face that. I don’t want everything dragged out in public.”

“But, if they think you have a case.”

“I’m not going to court. He can have the stupid flat. Sorry, I’m so tired of his games.”

Nicole moved nearer, desperate to hold Waverly, desperate to comfort her. “Do you want a power hug?”

A smile appeared on Waverly’s face. “More than you’ll ever know.”

They hugged, the problems of the world receding for a while. Nicole whispered in Waverly’s ear. “I’ve got you. We’re a power team. Like the Power Rangers, without those tight suits. Although, I’ve always fancied being the gold one.”

She could feel Waverly laughing. “See, you’ve got the gold Power Ranger to protect you.”

“I so need you right now. Chinese or Indian?”

“I thought they were American. Although, they are based on the Japanese tokusatsu Super Sentai franchise.”

Waverly pulled away, holding her sides. “I don’t deserve you. I’ll order Chinese, it’s my favourite.”

“Oh, right. Yes, mine too.”

Dinner delivered, wine enjoyed, they sat on the couch relaxing. Whatever had upset Waverly earlier not mentioned. Nicole checked her watch. Gone midnight.

“Sorry, it’s late. I’d better be going.”

“I’d ask you to stay, but I’m not ready.”

“Me neither. I want all of this first.”

“What did you think of the novel?”

“Novel? You mean, The Way We Were. Finished it. You’re right, Chapter 17 was very emotional. Don’t know how she does it.”

“She’s good at using her own pain.”

“Yes. Exactly. Mind you, you must be good if you’re with HarperCollins. Do you write under a pen name? I’ve searched for your books, but can’t find them listed.”

Waverly nodded. “I’ll let you see a draft of my latest once finished. Afterall, it is based on you, it’s only fair.”

“I’d love that.”


	8. That bag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole gets a shock...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm loving the silly dynamics of this story. Ah, just me then...
> 
> It's all rather cartoonish, but it's the holidays and mulled wine...etc. etc.
> 
> Anyway, moving on...

Saturday arrived. The bookstore had been open for a few hours, Robin busy answering customer questions, Nicole at the cash register, a line of customers waiting to pay. She had not made any plans to see Waverly since their last date in her flat. They had exchanged texts. Silly messages sent back and forth. She wondered whether Waverly would be visiting the store. Final customer in the queue served, she pulled out her phone.

Nicole: Are you coming in today?

Waverly: Usual time I think 

Nicole: C u lantern

Waverly: lantern?

Nicole: later…meant see you later…not lantern

Waverly: love you…& I meant that

Nicole stared at Waverly’s last text. The L word. She had used the L word. Was that love as in love, Nicole wondered, or was that simply her way of communicating? The bigger question was, should she say it back? What if this was a casual ‘love?’ If she repeated it, might she look too keen? The stress of not knowing how to respond turning her neck pink.

Robin floated by. “Someone’s stressed.”

Nicole showed Robin her phone. “Ah, the L word. Say it back to her.”

“I can’t. What if she’s saying it and then I say it and she’s not really saying it? She’s just saying it, without saying it.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying. Far too complicated for my brain to process. If you don’t say it and she has you’re going to come across as not caring.”

“But, what if I come across as too caring?”

“What must it be like in your brain? Give me the phone.”

“No. You’ll put something rude.”

“I’d never do that. Although.”

“I’ll do it. But, I’ve left a gap between saying it back. She’ll think…”

“Please, please, please, for my sanity, say it.”

Nicole: I live you too

“Fuck. How do I take autocorrect off this damn phone? It’s driving me mad.”

“Give it here.”

Robin took the phone, managing to send one text before Nicole realised what he was doing.

“What did you say? No, tell me you didn’t. I do, but she’ll think I’m only after her for her body. Which I am not. Oh God. I’m in so much trouble.”

Nicole: Robin sent that not me 

Waverly: Guessed. Do you?

Nicole: Do you what?

Waverly: Without clothes on

Nicole: If I said yes would you hold it against me?

Waverly: YES

Nicole: I’m so sorry. Please forgive me/Robin

Waverly: I meant my body…!

Nicole: Right. Good. Perfect

Waverly: You OK?

Nicole: stopped thinking

Waverly: LOL

Nicole stared at her phone. Robin had suggested they sleep together without clothes on. Waverly had said yes. In the space of a few minutes, their blossoming relationship had gone from liking to putting love in a message, from being fully clothed, to the potential to not be fully clothed. Her mind was in meltdown. Too much to process.

“I seriously will fire you one of these days. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Nothing like a little mischief to get things moving. Was going to put something far worse, so you can thank me for that too.”

“I don’t want to know.”

Nicole was in the stockroom when Waverly arrived. Robin was by the front door. He held it open as she entered, her usual black bag slung over her shoulder, a larger overnight bag in her hand.

Robin laughed when he saw it. “You’re going to give her a heart attack when she sees that. She’s already stressed.”

“I’ve got to go to London. Too much?”

“Way too much. She’s placed several books on the wrong shelves. Always a sign she’s preoccupied.”

Nicole emerged from the stockroom, standing looking at Waverly, spotting her large bag, a look of shock on her face. She remained rigid, unable to make her legs move, her eyes alternating between Waverly and that bag.

Robin winked. “This is going to be fun.”

He casually walked up to Nicole, placing a hand on her shoulder. “She’s ready for you. I can lock up if you like. No clothes this time. Got it.”

Nicole nodded. The nervous look on her face telling Waverly she wasn’t ready for whatever she thought was about to take place.

Waverly moved forward, dropping the larger bag near Nicole’s feet. “It’s OK. I need to go to London this evening. Sorry, very cruel of me. And Robin. He’s very naughty. Would you be able to give me a lift later?”

“I love you.”

Waverly hugged Nicole, forgetting they were in the middle of the bookstore. “I promise we will. Soon.”

“It’s OK. No rush. Honestly, I would wait a lifetime.”

Nicole picked up the larger bag, leading Waverly upstairs to her favourite chair, letting her settle. She stood for a moment, watching Waverly remove her coat, get comfortable, take out her journal and pencil, begin writing.

“I’ll get Mavis to make you a coffee. I’ve got cake.”

Waverly looked up, a smile on her face, returning to her work. 

Perfection.

The children’s book club was about to start. Nicole selected one of the many books she had in a pile by her chair, ready to begin. She saw Wynonna enter with Alice, both waving, Wynonna hurrying Alice along to take her place in the story circle. The Tiger Who Came to Tea. Alice sat wide-eyed, listening to Nicole, clapping with joy when the story ended. Wynonna waited for the other parents to collect their children, disappearing into the store.

“Alice begged me to come. She loves this place. Think she loves you more than Waverly. Don’t tell her I said that. It’s a toss-up who talks more about you.”

“Does Waverly really talk about me a lot?”

Wynonna nodded. “You’ve come into her life at the right time. She was a mess for ages. I’m glad she’s found someone like you. She needs it.”

“She’s giving him the flat.”

“I know. That son of a. Personally, I think it’s the wrong decision. He won’t stop. But, I understand why she’s doing it.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea either.”

“She’s worried it will affect her career if she goes to court. I think it will only enhance it.”

“She hasn’t told me the full story.”

“I’ll let her tell you in her own time. Is she here? Better say hi.”

The three walked upstairs, Alice rushing towards Waverly when she spotted her.

“Hi, did you hear a story?” Waverly asked.

“A tiger had tea.”

“Really. That’s a great story. Did Nicole read it to you?”

Alice nodded. “I love Nicole.”

“We all do, my little angel. We all do.”

Wynonna turned to Nicole. “Looks like you have your own fan club. Tiger.”

Nicole blushed. She wasn’t used to having this much attention. She had assumed for so long that she wasn’t the lovable type. Too tall, too much red hair, too socially awkward. To have this amount of adoration made her feel strange. Happy. She felt happy she could brighten other people’s lives simply by being herself. 

Waverly looked up seeing Nicole. She winked, returning her attention to Alice who was attempting to take her pencil to draw something in her journal.

Wynonna stepped in. “Alice, we need to let Auntie Waverly work. Let’s go have a look at the children’s books. I can buy you a few if you promise to read them.”

Alice took Wynonna’s hand, pulling her towards the stairs, waving at Nicole as she passed. Nicole waved back.

Nicole stood once more watching Waverly work. 

Perfection.


	9. That train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole does something spontaneous...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nicole's character in this story has taken over my life at the moment.
> 
> Anyway, moving on...

Ten minutes before Waverly’s train was due to arrive, the pair sat in Nicole’s car. Waverly looked tired. Nicole was worried for her, considering the long journey she had ahead. It would take several hours to reach London, travelling alone, getting a cab, arriving at the hotel.

“Will you be OK?”

“I’m used to it. Hard when I first moved here, all the back and forth. Now, it’s just part of what I do.”

“I wish I could come with you.”

Waverly giggled. “That and cake. Your signature chat up lines.”

“What? No. Please don’t think what Robin put in that text is in any way what I’m thinking right now.”

“It’s what I’m thinking right now.”

“It is?”

“Let’s see what happens when I get back. Nothing rushed.”

“Nothing rushed. Although, your train is pulling into the station.”

“Crap. I meant what I said.”

“Meant what?”

“In my text.”

Waverly exited the car, grabbing her bags from the back seat, running to catch her train. Nicole watched as it pulled out, Waverly walking down the middle of the carriage, sitting, looking out the window. Travelling into the night. Alone.

Nicole wished more than anything she was on that train. Her own bag alongside Waverly’s. Sitting gazing into her eyes. Talking, laughing, perhaps sharing a snack. Not cake, too messy for train journeys. Travelling into the night. Together. 

Nicole: Missing you

Waverly: Missing you more

Nicole: When are you back?

Waverly: Tuesday evening

Nicole: Call me when you get to the hotel

Waverly: It’ll be late

Nicole: I won’t sleep until I know you’re there

Waverly: OK

Nicole: I’ll worry if I don’t hear from you

Waverly: Promise. Hugs

Nicole: Hugs

Nicole wondered if Waverly would remember to call. Rollercoaster. Waiting, thinking through all possible scenarios as to why she hadn’t. Wondering whether to call, knowing it altered the dynamics of the relationship. She didn’t care. She calculated she would be at the hotel shortly after midnight. If she hadn’t heard from her by then, she would make contact, find out where she was.

In bed, half way through a novel, Nicole checked her phone. Twenty minutes past midnight. 

Nicole: Are you there yet?

Waverly: Stuck on train. Signal problems

Nicole: Is anyone in the carriage with you?

Waverly: No. Just me. Wish you were here

Nicole: Me too. Do you want me to call you?

Waverly: It’s late. Go to sleep.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Why are you still awake?”

“How can I sleep knowing you’re on your own?”

“Train’s moving again. Should be at the hotel by 1am I think.”

“When’s your meeting?”

“It’s a brunch. A few people who want to develop one of my stories.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It’s not. Trust me. Lots of people in suits. Lots of talking. Would rather be writing in the bookstore. I’m nearing the station. Call you later.”

Nicole’s phone pinged with a message just before 1am. Waverly had arrived. Was going to bed. Would call her in the morning. At least she was safe, in the hotel. The bookstore would be closed Sunday. A day to rest. It suddenly dawned on her. She could have gone with Waverly to London. She wondered whether she should just turn up unannounced. So not her. And yet, Robin was right, sometimes a little mischief moved things along.

She couldn’t sleep. Too excited at the prospect of following Waverly to London. She checked the train times. The first one out was at 9.15am, arriving shortly after midday. Waverly would be busy at her brunch. She hoped she could spend some time with her in the afternoon, returning in time to open the bookstore Monday morning. 

Spontaneity was not her super power. Shae had moaned she was predictable to the point of dull. Wearing the same outfits each day of the week, eating the same food. Shae seemed not to understand. Likewise, she failed to understand why Shae needed a new outfit every time they went out. Wanted to visit a new restaurant every time they ate out. Wanted to shake things up all the time. Never letting anything settle, get comfortable. She had felt on edge in the relationship for a long time. Saying the wrong things, walking on eggshells, never knowing what would happen next. And, here she was contemplating getting on a train for the fun of it. 

Because of Waverly.

An hour into her journey, her phone rang. “Good morning. Did you finally get some rest?”

“I’m on a train.”

“That’s nice. Hold on. Where to?”

“London.”

There was a pause. “You’re telling me you’re on a train at this very moment coming to London.”

“Is that OK? I can get off and go home if it’s not.”

“Come, come, come. Please come. What about the bookstore?”

“Closed. Are you sure this is OK?”

“So OK. Are you staying over?”

“I have to open Monday morning.”

“You could have got Robin to do that.”

“Why didn’t I think this through? Wait, I need to be back for the accountant. Are you sure this is OK?”

“I’m staying at The Montague in Bloomsbury. Should be finished by two latest.”

“Best of luck with your meeting.”

“Thank you. For coming.”

“That’s usually my line.”

Nicole exited the station, deciding to walk for a while, soak up the atmosphere. A bright, beautiful day, with the prospect of seeing Waverly later. It had been a few years since she visited the Capital. She loved its pace, yet couldn’t imagine herself living there. Too fast. Running a bookstore might be interesting, she contemplated, gazing in shop windows. 

She passed a tacky gift shop, an assortment of I Love London items in the window. For some reason she was drawn to enter, browsing the shelves, not knowing what she was searching for. There it was. A keyring in the shape of a slice of cake. Nicole picked it up. Made of soft plastic, she squeezed it, the shape squeaking the word ‘more.’ Hardly Tiffany’s, but it was cute and silly. 

Emerging from the underground station, she checked her phone for directions to the hotel. Waverly had left her key at reception, with instructions for Nicole to order food to be sent to the room. She decided to wait. She had brought a few nibbles with her on the train to tide her over. She sat on the bed, admiring the décor. Plush, turquoise blue walls, antique furniture. Expensive. Bespoke. Very Waverly. The bed felt very comfortable. Too comfortable. She removed her shoes, pulling herself up to the top, lying down. Not having slept much the night before. Five minutes she said to herself. Her eyes closed. 

She felt a hand across her stomach. Hair tickling her neck. Opening her eyes, she turned. Waverly was staring at her. No words. Their lips met. An embrace both needed.

Waverly pulled away. “Hello you.”

“What time is it?”

“A little after two.”

“Sorry, I must have dozed off. How was your brunch?”

“Productive. They like the concept. Means more nights here unfortunately.”

“Do you want to do anything? British Museum. Wherever you want.”

“Do you mind if we stay here. I’m as tired as you. What time is your train back?”

“Twenty past eight. I wish I’d given Robin the keys. Cancelled the accountant. I wouldn’t stay, I’d find somewhere else. Another hotel in London. I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m so nervous right now.”

Waverly placed a finger over Nicole’s lips. “So am I. But, this feels right.”


	10. That author

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole gets an even bigger shock...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, some (most/all) of you have probably guessed who Waverly is by now.
> 
> This is the chapter I've been leading up to. I hope you like it. A bit of fun to see in the New Year.
> 
> On that note: Happy New Year to everyone. Wishing you every happiness in 2020, and so much more.
> 
> Anyway, moving on...

Nicole wiped her mouth. “Tastes so good.”

“One of the reasons I come here.”

The waiter approached. “Would you like a top up?”

Nicole placed her hand over her glass. “Best not.”

Waverly held hers out, the waiter pouring more champagne. “To us.”

Nicole raised her glass. “To us. I wish I didn’t have to go.”

“I’m glad it was here. My favourite place in the world, after the bookstore.”

“Wait till I tell Robin. No, I mean. I won’t tell him, tell him. I won’t say a word.”

“It’s OK. We’re adults. Perhaps, don’t mention everything. Keep something for us.”

“Right. You’re amazing. I can still feel your...”

“Shush. Keep something for us.”

“Sorry. I’m glad it happened here too. You’re amazing.”

“You said that.”

“Did I?”

“What are you doing Wednesday evening?”

“Where did you learn to do that with your…”

Waverly giggled. “Stop it. Seriously, any plans?”

“No. I don’t think so. Women’s book club. Best not let Robin take it.”

“I’m coming.”

“What here?”

“Nicole! Focus. To the book club.”

“Great. Perfect. Splendid.”

Waverly laughed. “So this is what you’re like after our first time. Too cute. I really do love you.”

“Me too. You. I love you. I love you.”

“You’re shouting.”

“Think I need to lie down again.”

“I was thinking the same thing. And, yes you were amazing.”

“Bought you a present. Completely rubbish now that we’ve.”

Waverly took the keyring. “It’s perfect. Love it. So me. Thank you.”

“Squeeze it.”

Waverly squeezed the cake slice, the couple on the next table looking over. “What time is your train?”

“8.20pm. Need to allow half an hour to get to the station.”

“Ready for…” Waverly squeezed the keyring again.

Nicole stood, taking Waverly’s hand. “Did I tell you you’re amazing?”

“Come on. Don’t want to waste any more time.”

The train journey home was a blur. Passing stations, passing houses, passing fields. Nicole couldn’t remember getting off the train, finding her car, driving home. The flat was cold, her bed even colder. An extra jumper and socks to keep her warm in the absence of Waverly’s body.

Her touch. Her smell. Her taste. All new. All exquisite. All lingering. She couldn’t sleep. Her mind replaying the afternoon. Over and over and over. She had repeatedly imagined what their first time would be like. Reality being so much better. Every sensuous stroke recorded by her body. Every sexy sound recorded by her mind. Forever. The rollercoaster paused at the top of the ride. Elation.

Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough.

Robin was late in Monday morning. She was dying to tell him, knowing she needed to be discreet. He laughed when he saw her. “OK. What happened?”

“Went to London. On a train.”

“Ah, cat got the cream.”

Nicole nodded enthusiastically. “She’s amazing. Amazing. Amazing.”

“But, what’s she like in bed?”

Nicole looked confused. “Amazing. I’ve just said.”

“So, spill. How amazing?”

“I can’t. Promised I wouldn’t say anything. Very good. I mean, really, really good. Shouldn’t have said that. Forget I said that.”

“So, you’re saying she’s good.”

Nicole beamed. “I’m in love.”

“Want me to text her. I’m good at that.”

“No. Although. No. Best not.”

“This is the happiest I’ve seen you in ages. Wait till I tell Jeremy.”

Waverly called Monday afternoon having returned to the hotel. They chatted about nothing in particular. Waverly said she missed her. Nicole said the same. Both longing for another opportunity to be together. She would be returning late Tuesday evening. Nicole offered to pick her up from the station. Waverly declined. They would see each other Wednesday.

Nicole nervously asked if she wanted to stay over. Waverly accepted without hesitation. 

“I’ll cook for you,” Nicole said.

“I still owe you a meal.”

“I’m not that good at cooking.”

“I’m more than happy to eat whatever you’re offering. Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“This is the happiest I’ve felt in a long time.”

“Me too. That’s what Robin said. Happiest he’s seen me.”

“Thank you. For being you. For making me feel this way. See you Wednesday.”

6.55pm. Nicole paced the bookstore waiting for Waverly to arrive. The usual book club attendees already seated. A few new faces. An unusually high turnout for a cold January evening. She took her seat, her eyes flicking to the door at every opportunity. No sign.

The latest book under discussion: Another Time, Another Place by Alice Makepeace, her third novel. Nicole’s favourite of those she had read so far. Powerful, emotional, raw. Several of the women in attendance had seen the film adaptation starring Scarlett Johansson, for which she had won an Oscar. Nicole deliberately had not watched the film, preferring the depth of character portrayed in the book over an actor’s interpretation. A book snob, by any other name.

A young woman raised her hand. “I enjoyed chapter ten.”

An older woman turned to look at her. “So did I. Joey was a real shit. Sorry, pardon my French.”

“What did you think of the journey the main character was on?” Nicole asked.

“Difficult. Sad. Wouldn’t have liked to have gone through that,” the older woman replied.

Nicole spotted Waverly entering, Robin helping her with her bag. Her face glowing. Nicole smiled, waving. The group turned, staring at Waverly, watching as she made her way to the story circle.

“Sorry I’m late. Which book are you discussing?”

“Alice Makepeace. Her third one. Have you read it?” the young woman replied.

“Once or twice. Not sure Scarlett Johansson did the lead role justice.”

“That’s what I thought,” the older woman said. “Could have played it way more subtle. I mean, all the sobbing got on my nerves. Mind you, she got a trophy for it.”

“I always prefer book over film,” Nicole offered.

“Agree. But, it’s interesting seeing an actor play one of your characters,” Waverly replied.

Nicole stared at Waverly. “So, you prefer film over book?”

“Not necessarily. Book over film any day. Although, a book turned into a film pays very well.”

Nicole nodded. “Especially if you get Scarlett Johansson as the lead.”

Robin served tea and biscuits to the women who remained at the end. Waverly made her way over to Nicole. “Got caught up in a conference call.”

“I’ve made vegan lasagne and salad. I didn’t make the salad.”

Waverly kissed her on the cheek. The older woman approached, tapping Waverly on the shoulder. “I know this sounds strange, but you look familiar.”

“Do I? Probably have one of those faces.”

“Are you an actress?”

“Storyteller.”

“You write?”

“Kind of.”

“Will you be coming again?”

Waverly looked at Nicole. “Hope to, if Nicole makes me.”

Nicole’s cheeks turned deep scarlet. “I think the lasagne is on fire.”

Waverly laughed. “Do you need a hand?”

Nicole shook her head. “I’ll just go check on it. You stay.”

Waverly turned to the woman. “Scarlett Johansson is lovely in real life.”

A look of recognition flashed across the woman’s face. “It’s you.”

Waverly winked, following Nicole upstairs.

Nicole was in the kitchen. Waverly placed a hand on her back. “I really enjoyed that. Thank you.”

“Nice bunch. Have to keep reining them in, otherwise it turns into a film review. That’s why I don’t have one.”

“Don’t have what?”

“A TV. Books are more personal. Love the feel of them in my hands.”

“And authors?”

“Right. Yes, you’re an author. I do like the feel of you.”

“Behave. Or, we’ll never get through the lasagne.”

Meal consumed, fire watched in the lounge, they headed to the bedroom. A night of wild passion before them.

Morning sun streamed in through the window. A glorious morning, after a glorious night. Nicole lay watching Waverly sleep. 

Perfection.

She stirred, muttering something. Nicole brushed the hair away from her face, studying her features, leaning over to place the softest of kisses on her cheek.

Waverly half-opened her eyes. “Hello you.”

“Did you sleep OK?”

“Had the weirdest dream you were married.”

“I was married.”

“Right. Not such a weird dream then.”

“Would you like coffee?”

“Later. Listen, can I show you something?”

“I think I’ve seen everything you’ve got. Three times now. We can make it four.”

“I’ve been meaning to show you. Now feels the right time. Deep breath. OK, I don’t know how you’re going to take this.”

Waverly got out of bed, Nicole watching confused. She returned with her oversized black bag, retrieving a large, bulky, brown envelope. Extracting its contents, she handed Nicole her latest novel, careful to remove the top page.

“This is what I’ve been working on. I’m nervous about you reading it, but I need you to be a part of this with me.”

Nicole sat up, eager to read Waverly’s story. The story Waverly had written about her. Waverly sat quietly beside her, watching as she sped through the chapters, the occasional nod, the occasional sigh. Multiple chapters in, Nicole paused, looking at Waverly.

“This is amazing. And, there's me thinking you're amazing in bed.”

“You think? Are you OK with your character?”

“Absolutely. Can’t believe you wrote this.”

“All me.”

“There’s only one thing. This is going to sound weird.”

“Tell me?”

“It’s excellent. Only, your style of writing is similar to Alice Makepeace.”

“How similar?”

“Well, phrasing, word choice, character development.”

“Can I show you something else?”

Waverly handed her the top sheet she had kept back. The title of her eleventh book and her pen name. Nicole read the words, looking at Waverly, returning to the sheet of paper to read the words once more. A slow dawning of who she was in bed with. Speechless.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I should have. I wanted to, but I didn’t want it to come between us.”

“It’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me. I feel bad not telling you sooner. Say something, please.”

“It’s you.”

“Is this too much? Nicole, I really am sorry. For God’s sake say something.”

“It’s you.”

“OK. Can you say anything other than that?”

Nicole jumped out of bed. “I’ve got to go.”

Waverly watched as Nicole fumbled around for her clothes, rushing out of the bedroom. She sat waiting for Nicole to realise this was her flat. Nicole returned to the bedroom, iPad in her hand, shaking. She stood reading the screen, looking at Waverly in disbelief. 

“Say something, please.”

“It says over ten million books sold. One film, with another being considered. Margot Robbie tipped for the lead role.”

“Brie Larson. What page are you reading?”

“Wikipedia.”

Waverly laughed. “You know I’m right here. You can ask me.”

“But…it can’t be you. I’ve seen you naked.”

“I’m truly, truly sorry.”

“No. It’s fine. I’m just in shock. Is it really you?”

Waverly nodded.


	11. That news

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not the most relaxing day for Nicole...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, am loving writing this story.
> 
> Hadn't intended to add another chapter before the New Year. But, here's one more for the road, as some random person once said.
> 
> Anyway, moving on...

Nicole no longer knew which way the world revolved. From the L word in a text message, to a train ride to London, to making love with her beautiful girlfriend for the first time in a posh hotel, she now was in the presence of one of her literary idols, who happened to be naked in her bed. 

Too much to process.

“Please come back to bed,” Waverly begged. “I’m still the same person.”

Nicole edged towards her side, iPad in hand, eyes fixed on Waverly. The rollercoaster ride out of control, careering along tracks, liable to crash any moment. She sat on the bed, unable to find the words to communicate with new Waverly. 

“Are you OK?” Waverly asked.

Nicole nodded, wanting to shake her head, failing in the attempt. The ringing in her ears deafening. The room moving of its own accord.

“Seriously, are you OK? You’ve gone very pale.”

Nicole found the pillow with her head, attempting to stop the room spinning. She had never been good with shocks. 

“Can I get you water? Nicole, please you’re scaring me.”

Nicole lifted her hand, attempting to say something, no longer able to co-ordinate arms, legs, or lips. The room went black. Someone shaking her, calling her name. Muffled sounds. Her name again.

“Nicole. Nicole. Shall I call an ambulance?”

“Alice, is that you?”

“Nicole, can you hear me? Can you sit up?”

Nicole attempted to sit up, still feeling dizzy. Her eyes fixed on Waverly. “I feel sick. I think I’m going to puke.”

Waverly jumped out of bed, rushing to help Nicole stand, moving her to towards the bathroom, standing outside. She could hear a tap running, the sound of Nicole being sick. She felt dreadful. She knew Nicole had anxiety issues. Never for a moment had she considered Nicole would have this kind of reaction to the revelation of her identity.

Nicole emerged from the bathroom, still pale, eyes fixed on Waverly. “I’m sorry. I’m alright. Give me a moment.”

Waverly led her back to the bedroom, letting her lie down, returning to the bathroom to get a towel. “I’m so, so sorry. Do you want me to leave?”

“I’m alright. Honestly. I just need the world to stop moving so fast.”

“My darling. I wish I wasn’t who I am. I couldn’t carry on without you knowing. I’ll understand if this is too much for you. I do love you. I really do love you, but if this isn’t what you want, I’ll go.”

Nicole sat up slowly. “No. I want this. I want you. I want Alice Makepeace. No, that’s wrong. I want Waverly Earp. I can’t think. Is it getting dark in here?”

“Lay down again.”

Nicole lay down, Waverly stroking her hair. “Close your eyes, don’t think.”

Nicole did as instructed, feeling Waverly's gentle touch, a hand brushing against her face. She felt Waverly’s lips touch her cheek. The same touch she had felt many times before, the same softness. 

Nothing had changed.

She felt Waverly’s hand on top of her t-shirt, slowly moving down her body, pausing, her hand finding entry, resting on her stomach. Reassuring. Comforting. Gentle rubbing, as a mother would attending to a child. Homely. Safe. Waverly’s lips meeting hers, the lightest of touches. Inviting. Sensuous. A connection beyond identity, beyond names.

Nicole opened her eyes, gazing into beautiful green pools before her. “Hello you.”

Waverly smiled. “Hello you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“For freaking out.”

“Probably would have done the same in your position.”

“I love you.”

“Can I hold you? I’m feeling rather vulnerable right now.”

“Oh, God. Yes, sorry. Forever. You can stay here forever.”

“Hold, not stay. Although, both sound good.”

Nicole pulled Waverly into an embrace. “I may smell of puke.”

Waverly laughed. “You and your adorable chat up lines.”

7.14am. Nicole needed to get up, open the bookstore. She left Waverly in bed, making her a coffee, placing the cup on the bedside table. Perfectly normal. She showered, brushed her teeth, returned to the bedroom, dressed, headed downstairs to start the day. Perfectly normal. 

Robin arrived just before eight. His usual breezy self. He and Jeremy had watched the film Back to the Future II, had eaten a takeaway, argued about the possibility of time travel. Perfectly normal. Nicole was in the stockroom, listing returns. She emerged, heading towards the cash register, ready for the day’s business. Perfectly normal.

Robin approached. “You look terrible.”

“Something weird happened with Waverly.”

“Not sure I want to know given how you look.”

“She’s Alice Makepeace.”

“Kinky. Pretending your girlfriend is a famous writer.”

“She’s Alice Makepeace. Or, she writes as Alice Makepeace. So, technically is Alice Makepeace.”

Robin studied Nicole’s face. “You’re serious aren’t you?”

“Read her latest draft. Feel such a fool. Said she wrote like…”

“Does she?”

“Of course she does.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Where is she?”

“Upstairs, in bed.”

“Can I go up?”

“No. Why?”

“Get an autograph.”

“You mustn’t tell anyone. You can tell Jeremy. But, swear you’ll keep this to yourself.”

“Do you think she’ll sign a copy of Another Time, Another Place? Oh, my God, do you think she’s met Scarlett Johansson?”

“Brie Larson might be in the next film.”

“Fuck me. Nicole this is brilliant. I mean, you’re shagging Alice Makepeace.”

“Shush. It isn’t shagging. We made love three and a half times.”

“Half?”

“Passed out after she told me.”

Robin laughed. “Only you. Hold the fort while I go and swoon over your famous girlfriend.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say that.”

Robin raced off in search of Waverly. He returned ten minutes later beaming. “This is so fucking cool. Showed me her contacts list on her phone. Wait till I tell Jeremy.”

Waverly emerged just after ten. Robin had a huge grin on his face, his eyes following her as she walked towards Nicole. Nicole looked worried. 

Waverly placed a hand on Nicole’s back. “You still look pale. Do you want me to serve while you have a break?”

“Thanks. No, I’m fine. Should you be down here? Someone might recognise you.”

“How often have I been in the store?”

“Nineteen times.”

“That’s actually really cute you know. How often has someone recognised me?

“OK. But, what if someone recognises you now?”

“Why would that matter?”

“I don’t know. You're right, why would it matter?”

“Precisely. I’m me. I’ll always be me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m still trying to get my head round this.”

Waverly took Nicole’s hands. “It will take time. It took me ages to adjust. H didn’t help. We got this. You and me. OK.”

“Please tell me H isn’t someone famous.”

“Can we not discuss him? Just us. Only us.”

Nicole pulled Waverly into an embrace, meeting her lips, forgetting she was in the bookstore. Several customers stopped to watch, a round of applause as they broke away, Nicole realising what she had done, cheeks turning scarlet.

Waverly laughed. “See, no one knows. Perfectly normal.”

Nicole’s phone rang. Aunt Gus, wishing her a Happy New Year, announcing she would be dropping by shortly. Her aunt rarely visited, her imminent arrival causing Nicole to feel light-headed once more. She grabbed the stool behind the cash register, only just making it. Her day not one of her most relaxed. 

Waverly looked worried. “What’s wrong?”

“My aunt. Here. Now. I think I’m going to pass out again.”

Waverly called to Robin to help. They guided Nicole upstairs to her flat, laying her on one of the couches in the lounge, Waverly getting a wet cloth from the kitchen. 

Robin returned to the bookstore. Aunt Gus was standing by the entrance, browsing the latest selection of best sellers. Robin rushed to her, giving her a hug. He missed her. She had taken him under her wing when his parents had effectively disowned him. Had guided him, suggested he apply for university, helped him with his course work. She even introduced him to Jeremy, a regular customer, knowing the two would be suited. 

“You’re looking really well,” he said. “How are you?”

“Better for seeing your adorable face. How’s Jeremy?”

“He’s very well. Finally finished his PhD. Got a promotion at work.”

“I’m so glad. Where’s Nicole?”

“In the flat. She’s had a bit of rough morning.”

Aunt Gus made her way upstairs, entering the flat, finding Nicole laid out on the couch, Waverly smoothing her hair.

“Hi, I’m Nicole’s aunt. And, you are?”

Nicole sat up, the wet cloth falling onto her lap. “This is Alice. Waverly. This is Waverly my lover. Friend. Girlfriend. She writes.”

“Pleased to meet you Alice Waverly.”

Waverly stood, holding out her hand. “Just Waverly. Nicole told me all about you. This book store is amazing.”

“Thank you. That’s why I’m here. I’ve seen the draft accounts. I need to discuss the future of the store with Nicole.”

“Would you like me to leave?”

Aunt Gus smiled. “No, my dear. It’s fine. Mind if I sit?”

Nicole nodded. Aunt Gus sat on the couch opposite, Waverly sitting beside Nicole, her hand resting on Nicole’s knee.

“I must say the figures the accountant sent me are excellent. Profits are up. Your ideas have turned this place around. I’m so proud of you. I’ve spoken with your mother and she agrees. I want you to take ownership of the store. I know it’s a huge responsibility. But, given what you’ve done so far, I think you’ll manage very well.”

Nicole felt the room spinning, leaning back on the couch, closing her eyes. Waverly replacing the wet cloth on her forehead.

Waverly smiled at Aunt Gus. “She had a bit of a shock earlier. My fault. She’ll be fine. This is an extremely generous offer. Nicole loves this store. She’s put a lot of work into it.”

“I can see. I’m lucky to have her.”

“So am I. So am I.”


	12. That bracelet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a way to start a new year...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay...2020
> 
> Here's to lots of fantastic fan fiction...oh, and a few stories from me.
> 
> Currently channelling: Rick Astley - Every One of Us  
> (Never gonna give up Mr Astley...!)
> 
> Anyway, moving on...

Nicole’s world had shifted on its axis. Now the owner of the bookstore. Now the girlfriend of her literary idol, life would never be the same. Waverly hugged her, knowing how much the bookstore meant, their private conversations revealing how much Nicole wanted to make her family proud. How much she wanted to show them she could make a success of the business.

Her aunt’s generous offer was everything she ever wanted. Admittedly, it had cost her her marriage, Shae refusing to move to the town where the store was located. Too provincial, too dull according to Shae for the life she wanted to live. 

“I’ll make you proud,” Nicole said.

“My darling niece, I’m already proud of you. You’ve worked wonders on this old bookstore. You deserve this.”

“Would you like to stay for lunch?”

“Need to catch a flight. Meeting your mother in Monaco. You must come visit.”

Aunt Gus stood, opening her arms to embrace Waverly. “So glad to have met you. Take care of my niece for me.”

“I will. I promise.”

Nicole walked her aunt to the store entrance. Robin hovered, hoping to have one final moment with his own favourite aunt. They hugged, Robin promising to keep in touch.

Aunt Gus turned to Nicole. “She’s gorgeous.”

“She’s Alice Makepeace.”

“Never! Oh, Nicole. That’s wonderful. She’s an incredible author. How did you meet?”

“Here. A chair. I love her.”

Aunt Gus cupped Nicole’s face with her hands. “I’ve never said this, but I’ve always thought of you as my own child. You’d better invite me to the wedding.”

Nicole could feel the room spinning once more. Robin recognised the look on Nicole’s face, stepping behind in time to catch her as she went down. Aunt Gus reached into her bag, retrieving a small bottle of smelling salts, removing the lid, wafting it under Nicole’s nose. She gasped as the vapours hit her nostrils, her eyes opening.

Nicole focused on her aunt. “Sorry, I’m fine.”

Robin helped Nicole upstairs, Waverly meeting them as they came along the hallway realising Nicole had had another episode. She watched as Robin guided Nicole into the bedroom, standing in the doorway while Robin removed her shoes. 

He ushered her out of the room, closing the door, taking Waverly’s hand, leading her to the kitchen. “It’s fine. Honestly. She has low blood pressure. Just needs to rest.”

“She’s had a few shocks today.”

“You can say that again. What with you and then her aunt asking for an invite to your wedding.”

“She’s giving Nicole the bookstore.”

“Fuck. Everyone’s trying to kill her today. No wonder she fainted.”

“You really like her don’t you?”

“I’ll admit I was worried when Gus said she was taking over. Don’t get me wrong, this place needed a new broom. It’s just, Gus was a mother to me when my own mum threw me out.”

“Oh Robin, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Took me in. Made me recognise my worth. Made me go after things I never would have if I’d stayed with my family. Got me and Jeremy together.”

“Wow.”

“Nicole is so like her, it’s untrue. Her own mother is lovely. Such a character. But, so fucking selfish. Did you know Nicole is adopted?”

It was Waverly’s turn to be shocked by a revelation. “No. Oh, my heart. I didn’t think it was possible to love her more.”

“Her family story is really fucking sad. Gus told me before she arrived. Think she was trying to soften me up. Not sure you want to hear it. But, if it teaches anything, it’s that no matter how bad things are there’s always hope.”

Waverly could feel tears welling. “Robin, she entered my life when I didn’t have much hope. Walked past, pretending to be casual.”

“She’s so not subtle. She thinks she is. She’s hopeless. I blame the long legs.” 

“Her smile melted me. Couldn’t stop thinking about this beautiful woman with red hair. Knew I had to write about her.”

“Did you know you’d end up with her?”

“Not at first. Used to watch her replace books, pretending not to notice. Could tell she was interested.”

“But, all the famous people you know.”

“Another life. She’s everything I want. I truly believe she doesn’t know how incredible she is. 

“You’re right. She doesn’t.”

“I’d sneak down just to hear her read stories to the children.”

“Knew it. Stalker.”

Waverly laughed. “One hundred percent. Watched to see if she was with anyone. Hoping she wasn’t.” 

“This is so fucking cool. So, Brie Larson?”

“Robin! OK, do you want me to introduce you?”

Nicole emerged from the bedroom, following the sounds coming from the kitchen. She stood outside listening to the conversation, wishing Robin hadn’t mentioned she was adopted, shocked at what Waverly was saying.

She pushed the door open, looking at each in turn. 

“There you are,” Robin said. “How you feeling?”

“Better. Who’s manning the store?”

“Fuck. Sorry, Nigel is. Better get back down there. He’s probably locked the doors knowing him.”

Nicole waited for Robin to leave. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

Waverly wrapped her arms round Nicole. “I should be the one saying thank you. I feel I’m the luckiest person alive right now. No more shocks today.”

“No more shocks.”

Waverly’s phone rang. “Hi, thanks. You too. That’s perfect. Thank you for sorting everything out. Yes, very excited. Can’t wait.”

“Who was that?” Nicole asked.

“My agent.”

“Right. Good news?”

“Very.”

“Right. Very good news.”

“You’ve had enough shocks for one day. This can wait.”

“Right. Good shock?”

“I want to tell you, but I’m worried you’ll faint. You may need to get that checked out.”

“Right. So, good shock.”

“Very.”

“If I sit down, would you be able to tell me?”

Waverly looked at Nicole as she sat on a chair. “Here goes. You know I’ve been in discussions about a film of my fourth book.”

Nicole nodded. 

“And, you know I mentioned who might be starring in it.”

Nicole nodded.

“Deep breath. The film’s been given the green light and Brie’s agreed to do it.”

“That’s…that’s wonderful. You’re wonderful. How come you’re not fainting?”

“I feel like fainting. Can’t wait to tell Wynonna. Shall we do something to celebrate tonight? My treat.”

“Mine. I want to take my incredible, amazing, wonderful, beautiful, amazing, I’ve said that, fantastic girlfriend somewhere amazing.”

“Or, we could have a party here. That would be amazing.”

“Amazing. Need to work on my adjectives. Also need to sit here for a few moments.” 

Waverly kissed her. “I’ll be downstairs helping Robin. Will you be OK?”

Nicole nodded.

The rest of the day passed without any more shocks. Nicole watched from the stockroom as Waverly interacted with customers. She looked happy, sat by the cash register, taking payments, discussing purchases, as if she was made for the store. No one appeared to recognise who she was. To them she was simply the woman who sat upstairs every Saturday, in her favourite chair, writing. 

Nicole needed to get supplies for their celebratory party. She left Robin in charge. She would give him a pay rise, ask him to be assistant manager. Mavis and Nigel would receive bonuses. Nigel had hinted he wanted to retire. That would leave a vacancy. As much as Waverly loved being in the store, she needed to concentrate on her career. Nicole would put the word out for Nigel’s replacement. So much to do.

Feeling better, she headed to the next town. The store was busy. Champagne, cake and a selection of nibbles she knew Waverly would enjoy purchased, she walked to her car, pausing to look in the window of the jewellers. She entered, waiting for the gentleman behind the counter to finish serving another customer.

“Can I help you?” 

“I’m looking for something to do with books.”

“Wrong shop, I’m afraid.”

“No. I need a necklace, or a bracelet with either words on, or a tiny book.”

“I might have something. Wait here.”

He disappeared into the back of the shop, reappearing with a number of items, laying them on a black felt cloth, Nicole examining the selection. She settled on a delicate silver bracelet and one charm.

“Do you have any chairs?”

The man laughed. “Would you like me to bring out the other charms?”

Nicole took her time selecting the ones she wanted to add to the bracelet. She entered the store laden with shopping bags to find Wynonna talking with Robin.

Wynonna smiled on seeing her. “Congratulations. Do we get a discount?”

“Of course. Where’s Alice?”

“Nursery. She’ll be cross if she finds out I’m here without her. Can we come to the book club on Saturday?”

“How’s her reading?”

“Slow. I’m hoping she’ll pick up coming here. Loves your stories. I’ve read tiger tea so many times it’s doing my head in.”

“Let me know any others she likes and I’ll make sure to read those.”

Waverly came up behind Nicole, placing her arms around her waist, leaning her head against her back. “Hello you. Did you get everything?”

Nicole turned. “Couldn’t get olives. No idea why olives are in short supply. Why would olives be in short supply this time of year?”

“Shame. Was looking forward to olives.”

“I can go get some. Somewhere must have them.”

“There’s my Nicole. Whatever you have will be fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind. It’s no trouble.”

Waverly pulled Nicole into a kiss, Wynonna looking on making a gagging sound. “Way too much PDA. I’d better collect Alice from nursery. She’ll think she’s abandoned. Congratulations again. Waverly’s news is pretty good too. See you Saturday.”

Nicole took the shopping bags upstairs, taking out the small blue box containing the bracelet from her pocket. She studied it once more in the light, placing it in the drawer of her bedside table. 

The store closed, Waverly was busy getting her favourite area ready for their party. Nicole was busy with a few final chores, checking the wood burner to make sure it had enough wood to keep going for a few more hours. Dimming the lights she made her way upstairs. The fairy lights magical. Two glasses waiting for them. 

“Need to get a jumper,” Nicole said.

“Don’t be long.”

Nicole raced upstairs grabbing the gift and a jumper, heading back down. She watched as Waverly popped the cork on the champagne, pouring, holding out a glass. “To us.”

“To us. I know we haven’t been dating long, but I got you something.”

She handed the box to Waverly. Her face lit up when she saw the bracelet. “Thank you. Oh, my God, a little book, a chair, a cake. And a train. So thoughtful.”

“It’s our story.”

“Oh, Nicole. It’s beautiful. I feel dreadful I didn’t get you anything.”

“I don’t need anything. I have you.”


	13. That B...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> H wants more...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, a little less fluffy. Still cute. 
> 
> Buckle up. The rollercoaster ride gets a little bumpy from here.
> 
> All good though. In a bumpy sort of way.
> 
> Still channelling: Ed Sheeran - Perfect...The world maybe going to hell in a handcart three days into 2020, but hey...
> 
> Moving on...

Waverly fought back the tears. A hopeless task. Nicole watched as they trickled down her face. “It was meant to make you happy.”

“I am happy. I’ve never been happier in my life.”

“Shouldn’t you be smiling not crying?”

“Have you ever felt so happy you cried?”

“I guess. Actually, no. Don’t think I’ve ever been that happy.”

Waverly broke into sobs. “You keep doing this to me. Breaking my heart open a little more. God, I love you.”

“I really am sorry. Can I get you a tissue, or…?”

“If you mention cake.”

“Please, what can I do?”

“Hug me, now.”

Nicole moved in, holding Waverly, feeling her sobs through her body. All she wanted to do was make her feel loved. Let her know there were more kind people in this world, than the H’s who would use her. Use her name, her status, her generosity. She really didn’t need anything from her. She had everything within her arms. 

Nicole had learnt not to expect much from others. Robin was right, her early family life was truly sad. Too sad even for her to remember. The few years spent with her birth family deleted from her memory. Her adoptive family were kind, if a little odd. Eccentric, but caring. Made sure she was well-fed, had lovely outfits, taken to all the places young kids wanted to go. Zoo. Circus. Museum. Exotic holidays. And yet, her favourite place in the world was her aunt’s bookstore. An Aladdin’s cave for her mind. Given free rein to explore all the imaginary worlds available through words. 

She begged each summer to be allowed to visit, to help her aunt. Her mother enjoyed Nicole’s company to the same degree she enjoyed martinis on a warm balcony overlooking the Mediterranean. A pleasant distraction in her life. When Aunt Gus offered to look after Nicole during the summer holidays while her mother went on vacation it was gratefully accepted. 

Nicole hardly missed her mother. She spent most of the year in boarding school anyway, the occasional visit by her family causing ripples of excitement throughout the school as they drove up the driveway in her father’s DB9. Nicole always felt awkward as her mother emerged from the car. Hollywood looks, combined with enough facial work to keep her permanently young looking. Nicole’s classmates would watch, a little awestruck, a little jealous, wishing they had such an attractive mother.

“She’s not my mother.”

“Very attractive. Why don’t you take after her?”

Nicole rolled her eyes. “Because…”

“No, I mean, why don’t you dress like her?”

“I like baggy clothes.”

The group of girls giggled. “You look like a tall sack tied in the middle. With red straw for hair.”

Nicole gave them a blank look. She was used to their taunts. Would never change for them. She walked away, finding the large oak tree in the grounds where she usually sat when feeling sad. 

Her best friend came over. “Who’s upset you?”

“No one. I’m not upset.”

“You are. I can see. They really are jealous of you. You’re far more attractive than they’ll ever be. You have everything they want.”

“I don’t have their friendship.”

“You have mine. One decent friend is worth more than twenty of those idiots. Come, let’s go to our secret place, I fancy a cuddle.”

Nicole felt Waverly pull away. “Thank you. For being you. You know what I fancy right now?”

It was on the tip of Nicole’s tongue to say cake. She held back. “Tell me?”

“Here. I fancy you here. Right here.”

“Right. Don’t follow.”

“Here. In our chair. You, me and champagne.”

“Right. Still not following.”

“Nicole! Will you make love to me here?”

“Oh, right. Of course. Won’t we get cold?”

“Do you have any blankets upstairs?”

“Yes. And a duvet.”

Waverly laughed, watching Nicole remain in the same position, not venturing to retrieve the items they would need.

“Shall I go?”

“Fuck. Sorry, I was just imagining us in the chair. Right, I’ll get blankets. One, or two? And, do we need a plastic sheet?”

“Why?”

“For the champagne.”

Waverly laughed. “I meant to drink. Although…”

“Be right back.”

Nicole raced upstairs, grabbing blankets from the lounge, heading to the bedroom. Laden with pillows, a duvet and blankets, she dropped them in a pile by Waverly’s feet. “Do we make a bed?”

“I love you so much right now.”

They spent most of the night in their favourite place, celebrating their good fortunes. The cold night air eventually getting the better, they retired to the bedroom, Waverly falling asleep in Nicole’s arms, the bracelet making the occasional jingling sound as she sighed. Nicole lay awake, gazing at her Waverly. The woman who had entered her life, shaken it up, made her feel like the most important person in the world. 

She still couldn’t get her head round her being Alice Makepeace. She vowed to read every single one of her books by the end of the weekend. A tall task given it was already Friday. She wondered if she should start now, deciding to wait till morning, slip downstairs, extract her books from the shelf, start binge reading before Waverly awoke. 

Waverly stirred. Nicole had been reading for the past two hours. Book seven finished, three to go. She had just started the next when Waverly opened her eyes. “Hello you.”

“I’m reading book eight. I love Chloe’s indecision. Where do you come up with these characters?”

“Study people. Find out how they tick. Easy when you know how. Any coffee?”

“Yes. And, Nancy. I didn’t see that coming. Nor did Nancy, obviously.”

Waverly laughed. “Shall I make the coffee?”

“No. I’m going.”

Nicole sat reading the rest of the page. “The line where Nancy looks at Chloe and says…”

“I’ll make the coffee. You stay and read.”

“No. She says…”

Waverly laughed. “Only you. Back in mo.”

Standing in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, Waverly heard her phone ringing in the lounge. She picked it up. It was H. She cancelled the call. It rang again. She put it on silent. A message flashed up. His seventh.

H: Saw you got film No. 2. See you in court for 50% of your earnings.

Waverly stared at the text. Wynonna was right. That scum, that vermin wouldn’t stop at just the flat. He wanted more, no matter what the emotional cost to her. Tears filled her eyes. She returned to the bedroom. Nicole looked up from the book seeing Waverly crying.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You can’t still be happy about the bracelet.”

Waverly showed her the message. “That fucking bastard. I want to kill him.”

She jumped off the bed rushing to comfort Waverly, who was now sobbing uncontrollably. “Shall I call Wynonna?”

Waverly nodded. “I knew he wouldn’t stop. I knew. Everyone said, but I hoped if he got the flat he would disappear. I don’t want to go to court.”

“I know. Look this needs a good defence strategy. I could call my uncle?”

“Why? What can he do?”

“He’s one of the best legal minds in the country. Shouldn’t be too hard for him to figure out how to win against H. Afterall, he’s already blackmailed you.”

“You’d do that? For me?”

“Don’t you understand, I’d walk through fire for you, although I’d rather buy you cake. A lot less painful. Had to get that in.”

Waverly laughed. “Hold me. I’m so vulnerable right now, it’s untrue.”

“Forever.”

Nicole called her uncle. He answered the phone. “This is an unexpected surprise. A very Happy New Year to you. Congratulations on the bookstore. I must visit soon.”

“Could you make it today? I need your help. My girlfriend is being blackmailed by her ex and she’s Alice Makepeace.”

“Nicole, slow down. All I heard was you’re blackmailing Alice Makepeace.”

“No. I’m not blackmailing Alice Makepeace. Are you free to come to the bookstore today?”

“I am. I’ll need to check with your aunt Sylvia. She sends her regards. When are you coming to visit?”

“Soon. Very soon. Please, I really need your help. This is urgent. Can you come today?”

“For you. Anything. Say 10am?”

“Perfect. Thank you. Bring Sylvia if she wants to come.”

Waverly was on a call to Wynonna. “He wants 50% of my earnings.”

“That fucking. I’ll rip his throat out when I see him. Doc, get dressed.”

Waverly could hear moaning in the background. “What. It’s too early.”

“If you don’t get up right now, I swear I’ll bury you in the garden with the other bodies.”

“But, I’m due in at the hospital in three hours.”

“We’ll be right there. I’ll call the nursery and tell them Alice is sick. You OK?”

“No. Nicole’s uncle is helping. I don’t know what to do.”

“Leave it to us. That fucking, fucking…”

“Language. Alice might hear.”

“Don’t you tell me what I can and cannot say John Henry Holliday. I’ve a good mind to start digging that patch for you in the garden.”

“I love it when you’re this mad.”

Waverly could hear giggles as her sister hung up. “Great, Wynonna’s horny mad. She won’t be here for hours.”

“Is there anyone else we need to call?” Nicole asked. “I'll call my legal team. They’ve been liaising with H. Nicole I’m so sorry. This is such a mess. I just want a normal life. That’s all. Is that too much to ask?”

“No. Absolutely not. And, you have it. We just have to deal with H. There’s enough of us on your side. Don’t worry. And, if the worst comes to the worst you can work here in the bookstore.”

Waverly broke down. Nicole’s kind heart, the events of the past 24 hours, everything, opening the floodgates.

“I’m guessing this isn’t about the bracelet anymore.”


	14. That H

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly reveals the identity of H...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so it's time to reveal who H is.
> 
> Toyed with several possibilities, but eventually went with this one. Hoping it kinda works in the great scheme of things.
> 
> Anyway, moving on...

Nicole’s uncle arrived at ten o’clock precisely. He stood in the middle of the bookstore waiting for his niece, Robin unsure whether he should approach, or leave him blocking the central aisle. He had met him once at a family celebration at the store, a rotund man possessing a wonderful sense of humour beneath the gruff exterior. Robin decided it would be best to escort him upstairs. 

He approached holding out his hand. “I’m Robin, Assistant Manager. Remember me?”

“I’m sure you are. Where’s my niece?”

“Upstairs. Follow me.”

“I know perfectly well where the stairs are young man.”

“Fair enough. Waverly’s with her.”

“Waverly? I was expecting Alice Makepeace.”

A few customers turned to look at the mention of that name. Robin cringed, knowing Nicole would have kittens if she heard her uncle shouting it out loud. He set off towards the flat, his imposing presence gaining further looks as he passed. 

Entering the flat he called out to Nicole. She appeared from the kitchen, rushing towards her uncle, planting a kiss on his cheek, his features softening, taking one of her hands.

“My dear. It’s been too long. Aunt Sylvia sends her apologies. Yoga class. Frightful waste of money in my opinion. Keeps her flexible. Can’t complain.”

“You look well.”

“Well fed, my dear. Too many mince pies. Really must start that diet. Where’s Alice?”

“In the kitchen. Thank you for coming so quickly. We really do need your help.”

“My absolute pleasure. Anything for you my dearest niece. How’s your mother?”

“Sunning herself in Monaco with Aunt Gus. Waverly’s through here.”

Nicole’s uncle followed her into the kitchen. Waverly was sat at the table, eyes red from crying, a soggy paper tissue in her hand.

She stood as they entered, holding out her hand. “I’m Waverly.”

“Lord Anthony Panyck, QC at your service. Where’s Alice?”

“I’m Alice.”

“I must say you’re rather young for such an accomplished author. My wife adores your work. I’m more of a Conan Doyle fan myself.”

“Thank you. I think.”

“To business. My team will assist you once I know the facts. Nicole could you park yourself somewhere while I hear Alice’s side of the story.”

She waited in the lounge while Waverly and her uncle discussed the events leading up to H’s threatening text. They entered an hour later, Waverly smiling, clearly reassured by whatever had been discussed.

Lord Panyck stood in front of the fireplace, as if about to give a wedding speech. “All rather straightforward. I believe we can have this matter resolved quickly. Am rather surprised Waverly’s own team were not able to address this, but we are where we are. I’ll have my office draft the necessary papers to start the ball rolling.”

Nicole rushed to hug her uncle. “Thank you. Thank you. What a relief.”

“My dear, if I knew I’d get this much attention through such a small favour. You and Waverly must visit. Aunt Sylvia would love to meet her favourite author.”

At that precise moment Wynonna burst into the lounge, Doc and Alice in tow. “You’re not giving that fucker another penny, do you hear. I’ll swing before that happens.”

All eyes were on the mad woman who had entered. Waverly stood, motioning for her sister to leave, a look of deep embarrassment on her face.

Wynonna realised they had company. “What, it’s true.”

“Wynonna, please. Outside and not in front of Alice.”

“I believe Wynonna summed up perfectly all our sentiments on this fellow,” the uncle said. “Forgive me, I do need to go. Have a court appearance in two hours for which I need to prepare.”

Nicole waited until her uncle had left the room. “So, everything OK?”

“I think so,” Waverly replied. “He’s very good, your uncle. Are all your family this generous?”

“Eccentric would be the word I’d use.”

Wynonna was pacing the lounge. “Can someone please tell me what is going on?”

Waverly took her hand. “It’s fine. Nicole’s uncle has agreed to fight this for me away from the courts. He thinks what H is doing is despicable.”

“So, you’re not giving that lowlife any money?”

“No, and I should be able to get the flat back, plus compensation. Although, I don’t really need compensation. I mean, it’s not as if we need the money.”

“Baby girl. You are going to take that fucker, sorry Alice mummy’s annoyed right now, to the cleaners. You hear me. I’m sick to the back teeth of what he’s done to you. He deserves everything we can throw at him.”

“I’ll need to pay Nicole’s uncle. Worth every penny. Such a huge weight off my shoulders. God, I actually feel I can breathe for once.”

“I’ll pay,” Nicole offered. “I don’t mind paying. Afterall, I was the one who asked him to help.”

“No. This is my problem. You’ve done more than enough. I’ll never be able to thank you for what your family has managed to do for me.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of ways you can thank her,” Wynonna offered, winking at Nicole. “Right, my family move out. Things to do. People to bury. Alice give Auntie Nicole a hug. She’s our new best friend.”

Alice ran up to Nicole, arms outstretched, Nicole lifting her off the ground in a warm embrace. “I can read. I can read.”

“I know you can. You’re a big girl. Would you like to choose another book from the store?”

Alice’s eyes lit up. “A cake book?”

“Maybe one you can read with me on Saturday,” Nicole suggested, placing Alice back on the floor, taking her hand, leading her out of the lounge. 

Waverly hugged her sister. “I’m hoping this will be the last I hear from H. I’ve been instructed not to reply to any calls or messages. If there are any more threats we can press charges. I don’t want to, I just want him out of my life.”

“Will you tell Nicole who he is? She has a right to know.”

“I know I should. It’s just she’s had quite a few shocks already. I don’t want her fainting on me again.”

“Your call. But, if she finds out without you telling her. And, I suspect her fainting isn’t the real reason for you not revealing his identity. Look, tell her, preferably while she’s sitting down. Big sister advice. Love you. It’s for the best. Better go find Alice.”

Doc followed Wynonna out. Not the most talkative, especially when Wynonna was in full swing. He had supported both sisters through the messy separation Waverly had had to endure leaving H in London. A man of few words, those he spoke were invarably wise. "We've got the bastard at last."

Alice had four books in her hand by the time Wynonna collected her. “What do we owe you?”

“My treat. Remember Alice, choose one and we’ll read it together. Promise.”

“Promise.”

Nicole found Waverly sitting in the lounge. “I'm hoping Alice chooses We’re Going on a Bear Hunt to read with me on Saturday. Always like that story. We're going on a bear hunt. We're going to catch a big one. What a beautiful day. We're not scared.”

“Nicole sit. I need to tell you something.”

“You OK? You look really pale.”

“I need to tell you who H is. I’m not ready, but Wynonna says it’s for the best.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t need to know.”

“You do. I have every confidence in your uncle, but I know H, I know he’s capable of screwing with me and those I love.”

“I can handle not knowing. This isn’t important.”

“It’s Aaron Hardy.”

Nicole stared in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“Oh Nicole. Yes, I’m sure.”

“But…”

“I know. That Aaron Hardy. The chef. Met him at a press launch for the film. Friends of the Director. No idea he was a raving narcissist.”

“But…”

“I know. Comes across as perfectly normal. Charming. Behind closed doors he’s a different person.”

“But, he’s…”

“I know. More money than me. Go figure. He just wants to punish me for leaving him. Hates the fact I moved out while he was away filming. Assumed I was his pet to mistreat and I’d stick around wagging my tail.”

“But, he’s gorgeous.”

“I know. Wait. What? Nicole, looks can be deceiving. What’s on the outside isn’t always reflected on the inside. He’s vindictive, callous, belittling, thinks the world revolves around him and was determined to stifle any success I had out of jealousy. So, yes he might look gorgeous, but he’s certainly not you, who has a gorgeous heart to go with that gorgeous face.”

“Sorry, it’s just I never thought H would be him.”

“Hungry for Hardy. His range of cookbooks and TV series.”

“Right.”

“You’re acting really strange.”

“No. Sorry, it’s just I sort of had a crush on him at school, before I knew for certain he wasn’t my type. It’s weird I’m with you and you were with him. He’s older?”

“Fifteen years. Why?”

“It’s fine. Really, it’s just…”

“Nicole, tell me. What is it? Something’s worrying you.”

“I don’t understand why you’re with me?”

“Are you crazy? You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I made a mistake with Hardy. A huge mistake. Like you, I fell under his spell, thinking he was this charismatic lothario. He’s very good at charming his way into people’s affections. Should have known with three failed marriages he was dangerous.”

“I have a failed marriage.”

“Nicole. You. Are. Not. Him. You will never be like him. You’re too kind, too generous, too you to ever be him. God, I wish I hadn’t told you now. This is what he does. Every single fucking time. Ruins everything. He’s even ruining what we have. I knew it. I’ll never be rid of him.”

Nicole pulled Waverly close to her. “I’m so sorry. Forgive me. I don’t know what I was thinking. He’s nothing. H for History. Got it. Dry your eyes. We never mention him again. OK?”

Waverly nodded, wiping tears from her cheeks. “Thank you. Can we lie down for a while? I really need a cuddle.”


	15. That pedestal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole needs to stop putting people on pedestals...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter has a little more angst. But, in a good way. If that's possible.
> 
> Anyway, moving on...

Nicole woke with a start. A nightmare in which she was being chased by an enormous bread roll. Surreal, even by her standards. She left Waverly sleeping. It was early afternoon, still a few hours before the store closed.

She headed downstairs, the store quieter than usual for a Friday afternoon. She could see Robin standing at the cash register laughing with one of their regular customers, her mind on other things. She stood in front of the cookbook section, knowing what she wanted. Selecting one, she found a seat towards the back of the store, resting the large, square book on her legs. 

He had been her favourite, someone admired from afar, watching his show every Sunday morning while at boarding school, laughing at his jokes, admiring his easy manner with guests. If Alice Makepeace was her literary idol, Aaron Hardy was most definitely her culinary. 

She had wanted to meet him, knowing it unlikely. Never one to chase after stars, their presence on TV more than enough to satisfy. The other girls in her dorm had mocked her pin-up choice, Aaron’s face smiling as he chopped parsley, the girl opposite plastering her wall with female singers. Nicole had the best of both worlds, gazing across the dorm at barely clad female rock stars, knowing Aaron was looking down on her. 

She opened the cover. An introduction and a photo. Still as gorgeous. She sat looking at his face, wondering how her life had turned in such a way for her to be dating his ex-girlfriend. She knew her preference. Waverly, forever Waverly. Something troubled her.

She didn’t hear Robin approach. “Didn’t think you liked cooking.”

“I needed…”

“There’s a new vegan one I put out yesterday.”

“I’ll take a look.”

“Your uncle is a character.”

“All my family are characters.”

“You OK? Tell Uncle Robin.”

“I was being chased by a bread roll.”

“Really, really don’t want to ask this, but why would a bread roll be chasing you?”

“Waverly’s ex is Aaron Hardy.”

“Fuck me. This just keeps getting better. The guy who’s blackmailing her?”

“Used to have a crush on him.”

“But, you no like boys.”

“While at school. Still do. I know he’s been dreadful to Waverly. It’s just, it’s strange knowing she was with him.”

“Talk to her. Tell her bread rolls are following you. She’ll understand.”

“Be serious. And, that’s a definite no. She’s upset enough. She hates him, which is completely understandable. I don’t know why this is getting to me.”

“What about Wynonna? She can fill you in on their relationship. I’m guessing it’s the celebrity thing that’s screwing with your head.”

“That’s it. Least, I think that’s it. Thing is, I assumed Waverly was someone who came in, wrote, went home. And, she has this whole other life, which is so out of my league. I can’t compete. Not with the likes of Aaron Hardy.”

“Oh, you silly, silly girl. Waverly learnt a hard lesson with Hardy…Ooh, I made a joke. Anyway, she did exactly what you’re doing. You’ve put him on a pedestal, as I suspect you’re doing with her and then comparing yourself.”

“I guess. I know she’s the same person. It’s only, she has this other life.”

“Let me give you a piece of advice. Get off the ‘I’m not famous enough’ train. Otherwise, Waverly will notice you’re treating her differently.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right. I’ll speak to Wynonna.”

Waverly was in the kitchen. Nicole could hear her singing along to a tune on the radio. She stood in the hallway listening. Perfectly normal, and yet everything about her world was no longer normal. Everything was moving too fast for her. Now a nauseating rollercoaster ride she wanted more than anything to get off. She wanted the world to go back to where it was, to the start of the ride, before she knew Waverly was Alice, before she knew Waverly had lived with Aaron.

She entered the kitchen. “What’s cooking?”

“Vegan stroganoff. Hope you like it?”

“Where did you get the recipe?”

“YouTube. Why?”

“I never know where to get recipes.”

“Cookbooks. Or, YouTube, obviously.”

“Right. Just need to freshen up.”

Nicole left Waverly in the kitchen, heading to the bedroom. She sat on the bed, head in hands, muttering to herself. “None of this matters. None of this matters.”

Waverly’s hand touched her the back making her jump. “Tell me. Help me understand.”

“It’s fine. Tired I guess.”

“Don’t you dare. Tell me, or I walk out right now.”

Nicole swung round, the look in Waverly’s eyes telling her she needed to be truthful. “I don’t know which way is north any more. I love you beyond words, but I can’t work out what’s up or down.”

Waverly pulled away. “Work it out, then call me. Stroganoff has fifteen minutes.”

“Waverly wait. You can’t leave.”

“Just you try. I’ve had enough games to last a lifetime. And, no one. No one ever stops me from leaving. Got it.”

She stormed out of the bedroom leaving Nicole with the prospect of a night on her own and vegan stroganoff. 

This wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t know what she wanted, but it definitely was not this. Waverly was in the lounge collecting her bag and phone. She looked up as Nicole entered, the scowl on her face telling Nicole she had one shot to get this right.

“Do you want me call you a cab?”

Waverly shouted. “Is this it? Is this how we finish?”

“No. I just thought. I don’t want you to go. I never want you to go. Whatever I’m going through has nothing to do with you. It’s me.”

“You have got to be joking. You’re using that line on me. It’s not you, it’s me. That’s it, we’re through.”

“Please. What do you want me to say? I’ll say anything. Please, I’m begging you.”

“I don’t want to be here. Not now, not ever. What was I thinking?”

“I think I’m going to faint.”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare pull that on me.”

Nicole could feel the room spinning, her legs giving way. A hand stroking her face. “Nicole, Nicole. I’m sorry. Wake up.”

Nicole opened her eyes. “Can we start again?”

Waverly helped Nicole sit up. “We can, but I don’t see why. Nothing’s changed. The only person who’s changed is you.”

Waverly was right. It was her who was looking at the world differently. She stood, a look on her face telling Waverly she was truly sorry.

“Let’s eat. I do want to go home, but it can wait till the morning. I need to get more clothes.”

“You’re staying?”

“For now. I’m not happy with you, but I understand. I think.”

Wynonna was early for a change. Nicole could see Alice dragging her through the shop towards the story circle, sitting near the front, a book in her hands. Nicole spied it was We’re Going on a Bear Hunt, giving the little girl a thumbs up. The way Alice looked up at her in awe.

On a pedestal.

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. Aaron Hardy had been her teenage fantasy. Alice Makepeace was just a pen name. Neither were the real person. Aaron was a despicable man, capable of emotional abuse and Waverly was the most precious person to have ever entered her life. 

Nicole gave Alice another thumbs up, watching this beautiful child so caught up in the moment of adoring her. She knew only too well her own faults and yet, to this young child she was perfect. 

Her idol.

Wynonna’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Hey, Nicole read us a story.”

Other parents laughed nervously, not realising their relationship. Nicole opened the book, beginning at the beginning. A new story.

Alice rushed up at the end, shoving her own book into Nicole’s hands. “We read now.”

“Of course. A promise is a promise. Give me a moment.”

Nicole approached Wynonna. “Can we talk afterwards? I need to ask you something about Aaron.”

“Sure. Better not keep your fan club waiting. Good luck if you only get to read that story once. She’s been practising. I’ll meet you in the café.”

Nicole and Alice made their way to the basement. Wynonna was on her phone, arguing loudly with someone about cleaning her rugs, to the annoyance of several customers. She had ordered a drink and a biscuit for Alice telling her to go play in the kid’s corner while mummy and Auntie Nicole had a chat.

“So, what do you want to know?”

“What did Waverly see in Aaron?”

“Older guy thing I guess. He’s very smooth. Fancied him myself at first. Kind of jealous Waverly got him. Totally different story once I got to know him. He’s nothing like what you see on TV.”

“But, why him?”

“She met him when things started to get crazy. She was a nobody before her third book, then the publishing deal came along and the film with Scarlett Johansson. He swept her off her feet, made her believe his lies, that he’d help her navigate the celebrity world. It was all new to her. She was vulnerable to his charms. And, he fucking knew it.”

“So, he conned her?”

“Conned! He did more than con her. He used her. Broke her down. Made her feel worthless, treated her like a slave. The nights she’d call me sobbing after he’d spent hours screaming at her for something petty that annoyed him. Doc was so close to killing the guy.”

“Couldn’t she leave him?”

“You’ve never been with someone like that. You’ve no idea how manipulative he was. He eventually took away her phone, stopped her calling me. Do you want to know how I got her out?”

“How?”

Wynonna had tears in her eyes. “She had to write a fucking letter. That’s how. She got one of the cleaners to post it for her. She was terrified he’d find out. She slipped her money, telling her it was a birthday card to our mother. Not a day goes by when that doesn’t kill me.”

“Thank you. Thank you. I needed this. I only saw the person Aaron wanted the world to see. Waverly got to see the real Hardy. My uncle says he’s agreed to the terms in the letter. She’s free of him.”

“Thank fuck for that. Nicole, I could tell you so many more horror stories, but it’s all the same in the end. He never loved her. He liked the fact he had this young, naive plaything to amuse him. You know what really did his head in?”

“What?”

“She got away. She escaped and it kills him.”

“I think I’ve lost her.”

Wynonna placed a hand on Nicole’s. “You haven’t. Trust me. She loves you. She’s picking up your insecurities that’s all. It’s how she’s able to write the way she does.”

“She thinks I’m hung up on her being famous.”

“Are you?”

Nicole nodded. “I thought she was just a regular customer. A very good looking regular customer. And then, all this.”

“Big sister advice. Pull your head out of your ass and work this out with her. She’s incredibly fragile right now. But, also super smart. She’ll understand.”

“Thank you. I’m not losing her.”

Alice came over. “Can we read more?”

“Alice, darling, drink your juice. Auntie Nicole has to go talk to Auntie Waverly.”


	16. That outfit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole works her charm on Waverly...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't leave it hanging. So, do they make up...?

Waverly took a cab home. Nicole had offered to drive. She wanted to be on her own for a while. Bag dumped in the hallway, she sat on the couch. She wasn’t going to leave Nicole. She was her compass, allowing her to navigate the raging storms created by H. The bookstore her ship, allowing her to sail away from all the pain. 

She wished she had never taken Wynonna’s advice. Nicole’s reaction to H's identity upset her more than she realised. He always did this, slithering his way in between her and those she loved. Remaining in her life no matter what she did to remove him, causing trouble. She should have kept quiet. Too late now. 

Her phone buzzed. Nicole. Her heart wanted to answer it, knowing they needed to talk. Her head let it go to voicemail. She needed thinking space. She needed time to work out if she wanted to go back, or have a break. She needed to let things rest. Settle. She needed to return only when she felt ready. 

The phone buzzed again. Nicole. “What?”

“Hi, I’ve spoken with Wynonna. I think I know what’s wrong with me.”

“Great. Good for you.”

“When are you coming back?”

“Things are too much for me right now. I’ll call you.”

“No, Waverly wait. I’ve got to talk to you. Please.”

“Can we do this in a few days? I’ve a meeting in London on Tuesday I need to prepare for.”

“I had a bread roll chasing me.”

“Don’t. I can’t right now. I just need to be by myself.”

“I royally screwed up. I know that. The bread roll told me.”

She could hear Waverly laughing. “I hate you.”

“I know you don’t. But, I know you’re mad at me. And, you have every right. What I did, given everything you went through with H, is unforgivable. You should put me in handcuffs.”

“No, no, no. You did that on purpose didn’t you?”

“Me in handcuffs naked being chased by bread rolls.”

“Stop it. I’m trying to be mad and you put that image in my head. God, I love you.”

“It’s not about starting again. We go forward, knowing what we know. I’m here for you, unless I’m naked being chased by bread rolls in handcuffs.”

“I’ll be back this evening. Do you have handcuffs?”

“I can get some. There has to be a bondage shop in this extremely small, ultra-conservative town of ours. Love you.”

“Stop. I’m too emotional right now.”

Waverly’s car pulled up outside the store. It had been closed for half an hour. Nicole was in the stockroom completing an order on the computer. She didn’t hear Waverly knocking. Her phone rang.

“Are you going to let me in?”

“Sorry. Be right there. Don’t go anywhere. I’m coming to the door. I’m at the door. Can you see me? I’m opening the door.”

She could see Waverly laughing. The hug told her she was almost forgiven.

“I’ve bought olives. And…”

“Cake? Bread rolls? No, you found a pair?”

Nicole nodded. “Fancy dress shop in the next town. Robin’s suggestion. And, I’ve hired something.”

“Oh, God. I so know you. Surprise me later.”

She was back in the flat. A place beginning to feel like home. Bags dumped, she could smell something delicious cooking. Nicole took her hand, leading her to the kitchen table, motioning for her to sit.

Nicole pulled up another chair, taking Waverly’s hands in hers. “This is me. I’m a hopeless cook unless eggs are involved. I’m a hopeless lover and I’m hopelessly in love with you Waverly Earp. I’m not famous. I’m a little odd. OK, a lot. I have a tendency to faint when I get stressed. I have no idea how to dress. I’m too tall, too awkward to take to parties. But, I’d go anywhere with you. Just to be with you.”

Waverly kissed her on the lips. “This is me. I’m a hopeless romantic. I can cook, not with eggs. I’m an OK lover and I’m hopelessly in love with you Nicole Haught. I’m sort of famous. I’m a little odd too. I have a tendency to panic when I get stressed. I kind of have an idea how to dress. I’m too short, too awkward to take to parties. I’d go anywhere with you, just to be with you.”

Nicole could feel the droplets on her cheeks. “Do you? Would you? Could you see yourself?”

“The answer is yes.”

Nicole turned the oven off, taking the vegan lasagne out, covering it with foil. Their meal could wait. She led Waverly towards the bedroom to make it five and a half times. Several hours in, Nicole sprang out of bed. “Sorry, almost forgot. Be right back.”

Waverly sat up, pushing her hair over her shoulders, waiting for Nicole’s return. Minutes passed. She called out, wondering what was keeping her. “Are you OK? Should I come out?”

“No. Stay there. I’m having problems with the zip. Got it. Close your eyes.”

Waverly did as she was told, hearing Nicole enter the bedroom. “Can I open my eyes now?”

Waverly couldn’t stop laughing. “Only you. Seriously, only you.”

Nicole stood in the room dressed as the gold power ranger. Given the suit was meant for someone shorter it made the look even more amusing. Dangling from her hands was the item Waverly had asked for.

“I need to arrest you Waverly Earp.” 

“For what?”

“For being so incredibly beautiful.”

Waverly held out her wrists. “This is so going on my charm bracelet.”

Nicole was grateful the bookstore was in a retail area. No one else could hear Waverly being taken by a gold power ranger, in handcuffs no less.

All of Nicole’s hired suit had been removed by morning. The two locked in each other’s arms. Waverly stirred, in need of water and food. She pushed Nicole off eliciting a moan, the handcuffs still attached to one of her wrists. She smiled at the scene, contemplating whether to include it in her next novel, deciding it might not suit her current audience. 

A thought suddenly crossed her mind. What if she wrote under a new pen name? Completely plausible, given J.K. Rowling had achieved anonymity, albeit briefly, under the nom de plume Robert Galbraith. That was it. She would recreate herself.

She shook Nicole. “What? What is it? Leave me alone. I nearly had them.”

“Had what?”

Nicole opened her eyes. “Tribe of Brussel sprouts had me trapped in the kitchen.”

Waverly kissed her on the lips. “Oh to be inside your brain. I’ve had an idea.”

“About sprouts?”

“Stop, or I’ll do that thing again.”

“Do it. Do it. The sprouts can wait.”

“Nicole! Be serious. What if I wrote under another name?”

Nicole sat up. “Interesting. No. You’d lose all the readers following you. And what about HarperCollins?”

“Right. I’d need to check. Although, hear me out. What if I wrote under your name?”

“Gold power ranger?”

“I hate you.”

“We’ve established you don’t. Want me to show you again how much you don’t hate me.”

“This needs some thought. If I could, it would mean a fresh start.”

She hopped out of bed, leaving Nicole to work out how to evade a tribe of angry vegetables. Nicole found her in the lounge scribbling away in her journal. She returned with two coffees, setting one in front of Waverly, holding the other in her hand. She watched as her beautiful girlfriend worked away diligently. Her stomach rumbled, Waverly looking up smiling, returning to her notes.

Nicole left her, knowing she needed this. The lasagne reheated, she brought two plates into the lounge. Waverly was still busy. Nicole wondered why she didn’t use a laptop, preferring good old-fashioned pencil and paper. She was desperate to ask, deciding not to in case she disturbed Waverly’s train of thought. Her plate finished, she set about cleaning the hearth, lighting a new fire.

She could see Waverly shivering. The heating in the bookstore was old, radiators barely sufficient to take the chill out of the air, especially on cold winter mornings. She placed a blanket over Waverly’s shoulders, receiving another smile. Returning to the bedroom, she collected the items of the costume she had worn, ready to return it to the fancy dress shop. That was a good night she said to herself as she scooped up the mask. 

Sun was streaming in. A bright, crisp Sunday morning. She looked out. It had snowed overnight. A light layer over the road in front of the store. She thought back to when they first spent a night together. So long ago. A lifetime. Her life had changed. Unrecognisable from the one she had before she met Waverly. She could hear herself humming the tune of Silent Night.

She knew she was the luckiest alive. 

Dressed, returning to the lounge, Waverly was still busy, food uneaten. “I’m popping to the next town. Do you want to come?”

Waverly looked up, not really taking in what Nicole was saying. Nicole lifted the plate of lasagne. “Eat something, or you’ll feel sick.”

Waverly nodded, looking at the plate of food being offered to her, returning to her work. “I’m not leaving until you’ve had five mouthfuls. Fuck, I sound like my mother.”

Waverly stopped writing. “You sound like my mother too. Sorry, I get so carried away. Where are you going?”

“To the next town. Do you want to come?”

“Actually, yes. I need to stock up your cupboards.”

Nicole placed a guard in front of the fire, leaving Waverly to eat. She emptied two drawers in her bedroom, taking a bundle of her less-than-fashionable clothes to the spare room, dumping them on the floor. She would sort out the wardrobe later, give Waverly half, or all if she wanted. She would purchase more storage units for the spare room. She returned to the lounge.

Waverly had finished the lasagne. “That was so tasty. Didn’t realise how hungry I was.”

“I’ve cleared some space in the bedroom for you.”

“That’s really sweet. You didn’t have to, I’m used to living out of suitcases and bags.”

“I know, but I want you to think of this place as your home too. I don’t want you feeling you’re just a visitor.”

Waverly got up from the couch, wrapping her arms round Nicole’s waist, burying her head in her shoulder. No more words needed.

They strolled through town, stopping to admire a lamp in the window of an antique store. Nicole offered to buy it for Waverly. Waverly declined, saying Nicole had bought her enough already. They passed the jewellers. It was open. Entering, the same shop assistant was behind the counter. He smiled on recognising Nicole.

Nicole approached the counter. “We’re looking for handcuffs.”


	17. That costume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly buys Nicole a gift...

The new charm attached to Waverly’s bracelet, they took the scenic route back to the bookstore. Small patches of snow remained in the fields they passed, the sun having melted most that had fallen overnight. Crisp. Clean. Fresh. A beautiful day to enjoy a beautiful relationship. The wobble experienced by Nicole served its purpose, bringing them closer. A deeper understanding of how the other navigated the world. 

“Do you fancy lunch somewhere?” Nicole asked.

“Why not. I'm excited about a new pen name. Why didn’t I think of it sooner?”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want to do. I mean, I’m getting used to you as Alice Makepeace.”

“I’ll still be Alice. Wanted to write a thriller for ages.”

“Can’t wait to read it. Could I be the villain?”

“Was thinking hero. More in keeping with your personality.”

They pulled up outside Nicole’s favourite pub. It was busy, regulars enjoying a Sunday afternoon outing. Finding an empty table they ordered food and drinks, taking in the lively atmosphere.

Waverly pulled out her phone. “My meeting is 9am Tuesday. Crap, forgot it’s Jessica’s birthday. Need to get her a card and present. When’s your birthday?”

“January 5th. Who’s Jessica?”

“My agent. The fifth? Oh no, I’ve missed it. Didn’t see any cards in the flat?”

“Can’t remember when I last got a card from my family. Robin got me whiskey.”

“I feel dreadful. Especially after all the presents you’ve given me.”

“Honestly, it’s fine. You’re my present.”

“Would have been nice for you to have something to unwrap.”

“I get to unwrap you.”

“So cute. Speaking of unwrapping, when does the gold suit have to be back at the hire shop?”

“Tuesday. I feel the need to arrest you again Miss Earp.”

“Oh, God. Whisper that in my ear.”

Nicole did as she was told causing a shudder in Waverly. It was the fastest pub lunch either had consumed. The journey home at full speed, Nicole grabbing Waverly’s hand as they entered the bookstore, racing upstairs. An afternoon spent enjoying Nicole’s alter ego once more. 

“Fuck. Forgot the food.” Nicole said, bouncing out of bed.

“You’re forgetting something here?”

“One kiss, that’s all you’re getting.”

“Ditch the suit. In case someone sees you.”

“Right. Yes. Good thinking.”

Bags brought in from the car, shopping put away, she returned to find Waverly asleep. She brushed her hair away from her face, a gesture she loved doing, gazing at her sleeping beauty. Snuggling beside her, she let her mind drift. A hero in a thriller written by Waverly. Perhaps, one who thwarts an insane computer whizz running an online black market, winning the girl in the process. She hoped HarperCollins would allow Waverly to take a new name. In the short time she had known Waverly, this was the most excited she had seen her.

Monday morning came too soon. Waverly would be heading to London early afternoon, staying at her favourite hotel. She planned to be back in time for the book club on Wednesday. Nicole dropped her off at the station, watching her train disappear into the distance. She wished she could have gone with her, but the bookstore was short-staffed following Nigel’s retirement. 

Robin had found a possible replacement. A good friend of Jeremy’s, on the same PhD course, recently moved back to the town after several years travelling. Bubbly, someone Robin hoped would spice things up. He loved the slow pace of the bookstore, would not consider working anywhere else, but his personality needed entertainment. Rosita definitely fitted the bill. She was already in the store when Nicole returned, laughing with Robin. Nicole could see how easy the two were with each other. A good sign. She suggested they go to the café to discuss the part-time role. 

Rosita appeared friendly, intelligent. She had worked at a rival bookstore in the next town before travelling. Happy to be back, the hours suited her. They shook hands, agreeing she could start the next day. Rosita was overjoyed, hugging Nicole in the basement, Robin by the entrance on the way out. 

“She’s a one,” Robin said, closing the entrance door. “Very clever. Worked in a very adult cocktail bar in Tokyo for three months.”

“Adult?”

“Very. Great fun if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“You don’t think she’s too bubbly for here?”

“No. This place is crying out for topless waitresses.”

“Right. If you say so.”

Waverly called that evening. Nicole filled her in on Rosita. She could hear Waverly laughing when she told her about Rosita’s previous employment. They chatted, Waverly nervous about the meeting, Nicole reassuring her, making her laugh. Waverly had come to realise Nicole’s way of communicating had an ulterior motive. Her awkward phrases intended to charm and disarm those she sought to get close to. Those who enjoyed her act were allowed to enter her heart, those who didn’t were brushed aside. Subtle, clever, endearing. 

Rosita’s first day went well. Nicole could hear Robin laughing at something she whispered to him. Like two naughty children at the back of a classroom, sharing a joke at the expense of the teacher. She injected a new energy, livelier than Nigel, Nicole watched as customer after customer approached to ask guidance on book locations, or recommendations. Given she had only been in the store a few hours, she gave the impression she had been there far longer.

“How’s your first day going?” Nicole asked.

“Piece of cake. Missed being around books.”

“Robin said you worked in a bar.”

“Definitely no books there. Just a lot of drunk men who tip well.”

“Didn’t you get cold?”

Rosita pointed to her upper body. “Tips were bigger.”

“Bigger tips. Oh, right. Got it.”

Waverly’s meeting went well. HarperCollins were interested in her ideas for a thriller and a new pen name, providing she continued to churn out Alice Makepeace romances. Her eleventh novel was in the final editing phase. They wanted it to hit the stores as quickly as possible. It would mean a number of book signing appearances. She was used to being on tour, pitching up at unknown venues, reading sections of her book, posing for photographs with fans of her work. If Nicole had been on social media she might have recognised Waverly sooner. 

Nicole was at the station as Waverly’s train pulled in. She stood by the entrance, taking her overnight bag and her hand, desperate to kiss her. Once in the car she let passion take over. A full five minutes before they came up for air.

“Wow,” Waverly said, panting. “Somebody missed me.”

“Making up for not having a car at school.”

“Can’t wait for warmer weather.”

“Why?”

“We need to christen the back seat.”

“Right. Oh, right. Got it.”

Robin was by the cash register as they entered. Rosita had already left, Mavis was on her way out with a leftover cake in her hands. The book club was not for a few hours, enough time to reacquaint themselves in the bedroom. Nicole felt like a horny teenager. Her love life with Shae had faded, along with any romantic gestures. They were barely speaking to each other by the time Nicole announced she was going to run the bookstore. Shae wasn’t surprised. In many ways it was the exit she needed from a marriage in which neither should have entered. Nicole’s awkwardness endearing at first, irritating towards the end.

Clothes discarded, duvet pulled back, the two indulged each other. Waverly pushed Nicole off, gasping for air, her body shaking from what she had just performed on her.

“Oh, God. I’ve missed that so much.”

“I love the sound you make. Just hope the customers didn’t hear.”

“Did you always like women?”

“Pretty much. Girl’s boarding school. Plenty of choice.”

“Nicole! Actually, I’m jealous.”

“Of me, at boarding school? Don’t be. Cold showers. Everything stood out. Speaking of which, Rosita’s doing well.”

“She sounds fun. Can’t wait to meet her.”

Nicole checked her phone. “Fifteen minutes till the book club starts. Are you coming?”

“With you. Every time.”

“Waverly Earp. You’re getting as bad as me. Get your clothes on.”

“Crap, I nearly forgot. Wait here, I have something for you.”

Waverly returned with a small turquoise bag, with the words Tiffany & Co in black. 

“You got me a small paper bag. That’s so thoughtful.”

Waverly laughed. “Stop it. Look inside. This is to make up for missing your birthday.”

Nicole removed the box, opening the lid, staring at the gift Waverly had selected for her. A silver charm in the shape of a snowflake on a delicate necklace. Exquisite. 

“It’s beautiful. How much did you pay for it? I really don’t deserve this.”

“Firstly, you do deserve it. Secondly, it’s rude to ask the price. Thirdly, it’s a reminder of what brought us together.”

“It’s so pretty. I’m blown away. Thank you. I’m quite emotional.”

“Don’t faint on me. You need to take the book club.”

“Can you help me put it on? Seriously, this is too much.”

“Not for you. I’d give you the world if it was mine.”

“And, now I’m crying.”

“Yay. I’ve just made you happy cry. I win.”

They hugged, dressed, headed downstairs. Robin had set out chairs for the expected number of attendees. When Nicole saw the crowd that had assembled she was shocked. At least three times the number. Robin was frantically bringing over more chairs, knowing this was the largest group they had ever had to accommodate.

“I don’t think we have enough. No idea where they’ve all come from. Bingo must be cancelled.”

“There are more chairs in the storeroom. I’ll help you. Waverly can you mingle while I help Robin.”

Several women spotted Waverly. “There she is. Maureen was right, it is her.”

A woman approached, her favourite Alice Makepeace novel in her hand. “Would you sign this for me? I’m a huge fan of yours. Loved Scarlett Johansson in your film.”

“Of course. What would you like me to put?”

“To Alex. Hope you find a love like Chloe’s.”

“Sure. I’m hoping you’ll like Brie Larson in the next film.”

A gasp was heard amongst the women. The older woman who had attended the previous book club came forward. “So, what’s it like mixing with all the stars?”

“Interesting. Some good, some bad. Great for my stories.”

“Who’s the most interesting person you’ve met?”

“Nicole Haught.”

“Weren’t you going out with that famous chef guy?”

Waverly nodded, feeling Nicole’s hand on her back. “You OK? You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine. All good.”

Nicole could see the last question had shaken her. “Hey, everyone, can we give her some space to enjoy the book club. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time at the end to ask her questions.”

Waverly took a seat towards the back. Nicole could see she was upset. She motioned to Robin to check she was OK. Waverly nodded, Robin placing a hand on her shoulder, giving Nicole a thumbs up. 

The discussion that evening was lively. The new women attending the club adding a new dynamic Nicole had longed for. Serious conversation about literature.

As soon as she could she went to Waverly. “I’m so sorry. Are you OK?”

“Yes, fine. Just tired.”

“That’s my line. Tell me.”

“It’s silly. I was looking forward to this evening, then he pops up and it’s like he’s here. Fucking everything up.”

“These women don’t know what he’s capable of. They see him the same way I saw him before Wynonna set me straight. He’s not here. He’s no longer in your life. He no longer can hurt you. Gold power ranger says so.”

“I really wish you had kept that outfit.”

“Hired another one.”

“Let me guess. Nope. Tell me.”

“Bread roll. I’m going to chase you round the flat later. Naked.”

Waverly laughed. “Are there bread roll costumes?”

“No. I asked. Nor, Brussel sprouts apparently."

"Only you."

"Still have the handcuffs.”


	18. That thigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole gets some unwanted attention...

Wynonna had organised a small dinner party. Nothing fancy, a chance for Nicole to meet her colourful friends. Waverly was looking forward to spending an evening with her sister. Always entertaining, Wynonna could hold an audience for hours, especially after a few glasses of wine. 

Most of the guests were there by the time they arrived. Nicole was nervous, not wanting to give a bad impression in front of strangers, resigning herself to the fact her social awkwardness would rear its ugly head at some stage during the evening. Doc was busy in the kitchen preparing the first course, preferring to take on the task of cooking rather than leave it to Wynonna. The one and only time he had let her take charge in the kitchen they had had to order a takeaway, Wynonna too engrossed in conversation and wine to remember to put the main course in the oven. 

Nicole stood behind Waverly in the lounge, a glass of sparkling water in her hand having nominated herself the driver for the evening. Waverly wanted to get a cab, Nicole knowing she was better sober when dealing with new people. Alice had been given permission to come down and say hello. On no account was she to beg Nicole to read her a story. 

Wynonna scowled when she saw a book in her hand. “What did mummy say? Nicole will read you a story at the book club on Saturday.”

“But, I like this one.”

“I don’t mind reading a story.”

“So much for parenting. One story, OK. One story. Auntie Nicole is here for mummy tonight.”

Alice took Nicole’s hand, Nicole managing to spill her drink down her leg in the process, eliciting laughter from those who saw. Waverly went to the kitchen to find paper towels, wiping Nicole’s damp thigh while she read, her ability to focus on the words diminishing with each stroke. Story over, Alice hugged Nicole, sticking her tongue out at the guests who had laughed at her favourite person in the world.

“Alice! That’s rude. Bed now, or mummy will be cross.”

Waverly opened her arms. “Don’t I get a hug?”

“If you read me.”

“So like her mother,” Wynonna said. “If you go to bed, she might come and read to you.”

The child headed for the stairs, looking back at Nicole, a look that said she was completely and utterly in love with her. Nicole blew her a kiss. 

Waverly handed Nicole her drink. “Kind of jealous she loves you more.”

“Everyone loves the gold power ranger.”

“Glad Doc’s in charge of cooking. Not Wynonna’s super power. Or cleaning, or budgeting, or parenting. She can mix a wicked martini.”

Doc called from the kitchen to say the first course was about to be served. Guests took their places, Wynonna making sure glasses were topped up. A woman sitting next to Nicole introduced herself. 

“Mercedes, Wynonna’s oldest friend. You’re Nicole right?”

Nicole held out her hand. “Nicole Haught. Bookstore in town.”

“Love that place.”

“There’s a café in the basement.”

“Must pop in while I’m here. Wynonna’s putting me up for a few days.”

“What do you do?”

“Run my own property company. I must say you’re extremely good looking.”

“I’m with Alice. Waverly. I’m with Waverly. Just Waverly. Not Alice. We’re dating.”

“Relax. Merely an observation, not an overture. Unless…” 

Nicole felt a hand on her thigh, her body reacting the only way it knew how. She managed to knock over a full glass of water on the table, her chair landing on its back on the floor. Waverly began mopping the spillage with her napkin, Doc retrieving more paper towels from the kitchen.

“Sorry, cramp in one thigh,” Nicole shouted, looking round the table at the amused faces staring back at her. “I’m fine. Can I use the bathroom?”

“I’ll show you where it is,” Waverly offered, taking her hand, leading her through the kitchen. “What’s wrong? You seem on edge.”

“The woman next to me put her hand on my thigh. Says I’m good looking.”

“You are. That’s Mercedes for you. Always on the lookout for an attractive catch.”

“Could have warned me. I’ve made a complete tit of myself in front of Wynonna’s friends.”

“We’re talking Wynonna’s friends here. Most of them will be too drunk to remember and Mercedes knows you’re not available.”

“Can you sit next to her? I’m not comfortable with where her hands want to go.”

“Honestly, she’s OK. Just a little loose with boundaries.”

“Loose? Zero where my thighs are concerned. I’m a no thigh touching kind of girl, unless I know the person touching my thigh is the person I want touching my thigh. I am so stressed right now.”

“Do you want to leave? It’s OK. I’m feeling tired.”

“My head’s spinning. Are you tired, as in tired, or not tired, but saying you’re tired so we can leave?”

“God, I love you. OK, tired, as in not tired. And horny.”

“Right. You’re horny. And, now I’m horny. And apparently Mercedes is horny.”

“Who’s horny?” Wynonna asked, coming to collect another bottle of wine from the rack.

“Mercedes touched Nicole on the thigh.” 

“You’re lucky she didn’t undo your jeans. Very good with her hands, so I’ve been told.”

The three returned to the table, Waverly sitting next to Mercedes, Nicole attempting to make small talk with the guy next to her, watching his hands the whole time. She no longer trusted any of Wynonna’s friends to keep a respectable distance. The meal over, guests departed, they sat in the lounge, listening to Doc cursing in the kitchen having discovered another dish he had prepared still in the microwave.

Mercedes lowered her glass. “I must say you do have lovely thighs.”

“Does she? Nicole, give us your leg,” Wynonna teased.

“Quite fancy adding a bookkeeper to my conquests.”

“Book seller,” Nicole corrected. “I book sell. I mean, I sell books.”

“You can stamp my book anytime,” Mercedes jested, gaining a laugh from Wynonna.

“OK. Enough.” Waverly interrupted. “She won’t come again. No, don’t you dare say anything Wynonna. I can see the cogs in your brain working.”

“I was only going to say…”

“Whatever it was, you have a mischievous grin on your face. You two are very naughty together. We’d better be going. I’ll get our coats.”

Waverly stood, grabbing Nicole’s hand, forcing her to move in unison. Waiting in the hallway, Nicole watched as Wynonna sidled up, decidedly drunk.

“She loves you, you know.”

“Mercedes?”

“Touché. Waverly, my baby, the one you’re sleeping with.”

“I love her too. I’ll look after her, I promise.”

Waverly returned with coats, eyeing Wynonna suspiciously, wondering what further mischief she was up to. A frost had formed, glistening on the roof of the car under the street light. Their breath leaving trails as they exhaled. The heating turned to full, they sat shivering, waiting for the front windscreen to clear.

“Sorry about those two. Now you know why I was happy to see in the New Year with you.”

“Robin said that’s a defining moment. Someone you’ve just met wanting to play Monopoly is a keeper.”

“So, I’m a keeper?”

Nicole nodded. “If you’re willing to take a chance card on me.”

Waverly shook her head. “So annoying. Also, so annoyingly sexy.”

She pulled Nicole into a kiss, the two locked together, keeping each other warm, wishing it was summer. The back seat beaconing.

Robin bounced in Saturday morning. Extra jolly since Rosita joined. They worked well together, happy banter lifting the spirits of the store. Waverly had still to meet her. Rosita was due to start at 10am, in time to put out the new arrivals, help with the children’s book club. Nicole phoned Wynonna to ask which book Alice would like her to read, making sure to have it ready for when she arrived.

Waverly was upstairs in her favourite spot, writing. Nicole had left a blanket on the back of the chair in readiness, asking Mavis to bring her a latte and a slice of vegan cake around 11am. Mavis had huffed something to the effect she wasn’t a waitress, which amused Nicole no end, remembering Robin’s comment about employing waitresses with minimal upper clothing. Not that she would ever want to see Mavis topless. Old enough to be her mother without any of the expensive maintenance work.

Rosita busied herself upstairs. She passed Waverly not realising she was there. Books placed on the shelf, she glanced over, recognising who she was.

“You’re Alice Makepeace. I have all your books.”

“Which is your favourite?”

“Sixth. Bet everyone says number three. Am I right?”

Waverly nodded. “Enjoyed writing the sixth. I have a new one out shortly based on Nicole.”

“That’s so cool. Does she know?”

“She’s read a draft.”

“I’d love to read that too. I’m Rosita. I work here.”

“Waverly. I live here.”

Rosita took a step back, unsure of what to make of her answer. She smiled, desperate to find Robin to tell him who she had met.”

“You are not going to believe who’s upstairs?”

“Alice Makepeace.”

“You know? Really fucking hot. Definitely would if she said yes.”

“Best not let Nicole hear you.”

“What’s it got to do with her?”

“That’s Nicole’s girlfriend.”

“No way. Nicole is one lucky, lucky girl. So jealous. At least that answers one question.”

“Pray, tell Robin.”

“She’s on the menu.”

“Whatever you do, never mention Aaron Hardy to either of them. Bad news. Bad, bad news.”

“Why?”

“Ex. Seriously, seriously bad news. Blackmailed her.”

“Never. Wow, Nicole and Alice. Alice and Aaron. This place is amazing.”

“Keep your hands off Waverly. And, Nicole for that matter. I’ve seen you looking.”

“She’s eye candy. So doesn’t know how good looking she is.”

“Nicole, or Waverly?”

“Nicole. There’s something cute about her. Can’t put my finger on it.”

“Keep those naughty little fingers off the boss. And Waverly.”

Nicole finished Alice’s favourite story to the applause of her miniature audience and their parents. Waverly had come to listen, admiring how Nicole held their attention, making the story come alive for the children sitting in wonder. Alice rushed to Nicole at the end, Wynonna having to prise her off, taking her by the hand, promising to get her another juice and biscuit in the café. Alice spotted Waverly, tugging Wynonna’s hand in her direction. A long hug given she reluctantly went with her mother to enjoy her treats. 

“I love how you read to them,” Waverly said, stroking Nicole’s hair. “I struggle putting that much emotion into reading stories out loud.”

“I remember all the times I sat listening to Gus. She was great. So entertaining. Robin’s invited us out tonight. Karaoke at a bar near his flat. Jeremy’s going and Rosita, I think.”

“Didn’t know you liked karaoke.”

“Hate it. Only go to hear Robin and Jeremy sing. Their Bohemian Rhapsody is so bad it’s good.”

“I’m quite tired.”

“Tired, as in tired, or tired as in not tired?”

“Tired as in tired. What the heck. A few hours won’t kill me.”

Robin was up singing when they arrived. His attempt at Don’t You Want Me Baby by The Human League gaining boos from the audience. A harsh crowd. Jeremy and Rosita had found a table, their eyes on Robin, clapping away, pretending to enjoy his tuneless rendition. A round of drinks bought, they sat waiting for the next wannabe to sing. Rosita was several cocktails in, drunk, making eyes at Waverly. Waverly smiled, raising her glass.

Rosita leant across to speak, her hand gripping Nicole’s thigh causing her to choke on her beer. Waverly looked over, wondering what had caused the reaction, spotting Rosita’s hand in that very place she knew Nicole was not comfortable having touched. The look she gave Rosita told her to, most assuredly, reconsider her hand position.

“Can’t believe you’re Alice.”

“How do you know Robin?”

“Jeremy. PhD students. Where do you get your inspiration to write?”

“I absorb emotions. Empathy, I guess, if you want to put a label on it. I can read people. I can also read you have your hand on my girlfriend’s thigh right now.”

“That’s so fucking cool. Wish I had your talent.”

“Thank you. Love your energy. You have a natural ability to draw people towards you.”

“Wow. So good. I’d date you if you weren’t with my boss.”

Nicole sat listening to the conversation. Thigh touching by an employee a no go. Flirting with her girlfriend a definite no go. She lifted her beer to her lips, letting the moment pass.


	19. That massage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole sees more than she wants...

The cab journey home was quiet. Waverly rested her head on Nicole’s shoulder, drifting off to sleep. She had to be woken by the time it pulled up outside the bookstore. Nicole wanted to say something about Rosita’s blatant approach, realising it could wait till morning. She lay in bed watching Waverly sleep, the stroking of her hair eliciting a soft moan from her girlfriend. Her girlfriend, her amazing, super-talented, gorgeous girlfriend. She would keep her promise to look after her. An easy promise given how much in love she was with her angel.

A lazy Sunday passed too quickly. A stroll round town, coffee in their new favourite café, followed by lunch, then dinner and bed. An ordinary day. Nothing special, cherished by both. Nicole opened the store Monday morning, Robin floating in still singing the last karaoke song from Saturday night. Everyone had had a good time, apart from Nicole, still contemplating whether to mention Rosita to Waverly. She kept quiet, fearing it was her insecurities working overtime. 

Rosita arrived, equally bubbly, apparently forgetful of her behaviour at the bar. She kissed Robin on the cheek, winking at Nicole, who stood watching the pair. She liked having her around, definitely an improvement on Nigel, better looking and had a way with people that was refreshing. Someone who cared about literature, knew how to respond to customer questions, knew the right books to recommend. 

Waverly had parked herself in her usual spot, unable to get comfortable. Her neck stiff from too heavy a sleep. She sat massaging the right side as she skimmed through her notes, her ability to concentrate hampered by the discomfort she was feeling. She stood, stretching, moving her neck from side to side. Nothing would shift the dull ache running across her shoulders. Her pain killers were in her bag upstairs, her mind flicking between retrieving and soldiering on. 

Rosita was making her way up the stairs, a large pile of books in her hands ready to put out. She spotted Waverly, pausing to watch her twisting her lithe body in an attempt to loosen up. 

“Someone needs a massage,” she offered as she passed.

“I so do. My neck’s killing me. Can’t concentrate.”

“Here, let me try something.”

Rosita placed the books on the small table, rubbing her hands together. Her slow movements were exactly what Waverly needed, moaning as Rosita released the knots using just enough pressure not to cause further pain.

“So good. Where did you learn to do that? Yes, right there.”

“Bali. Took a course. You probably need a full body massage. It’s fine working only the neck, but it’s so much more beneficial if I work the whole body. You’ll feel wonderful.”< /p>

“I get a lot of tension. Could be the way I’m sitting. Full body. Does it help?”

“You’ll thank me afterwards.”

“OK. If you don’t mind. I’m not going to be able to work like this if I don’t get rid of the pain.”

The pair made their way to the flat, Waverly leading Rosita into the lounge, assuming she could use one of couches. Rosita stood shaking her head. “Are you OK with me doing this on the bed? Easier for access. And, I’ll need oil.”

“I’ll check if there’s any in the bathroom.”

Waverly returned, a bottle in her hand and a large towel, the same one she used on her first visit to the flat. She pointed to the bedroom, Rosita following her in, gazing round the room, taking in Nicole’s eclectic style. Waverly placed the towel on the bed, handing the bottle to Rosita, lying face down.

“You’ll need to remove your top and bra for me. If you’re OK with just your briefs it would be best to take your jeans off too.”

“Can’t remember the last time I had a full massage. Must book one in the hotel next time I’m there.”

Removing her clothes she returned to the bed, positioning herself so Rosita could work on her body. She could feel Rosita’s hands gliding effortlessly, working her muscles, easing the tension, releasing the knots. Slow, rhythmical movements down her back. Each stroke relaxing her, sending her to sleep. Blissful. She imagined Nicole performing the actions, a small smile appearing on her face.

“This is so good,” Waverly moaned.

“Really,” Nicole replied.

Nicole was standing in the doorway watching Rosita on top of her naked girlfriend, both clearly enjoying whatever they were doing. Rosita turned to look at Nicole, a look that confirmed what Nicole was thinking. She dismounted, a glint in her eyes. “I can do you if you want. No charge.”

She brushed past Nicole still standing in the doorway, unable to tear her eyes from what lay before her. Waverly turned over, smiling at Nicole, completely unaware of the inner turmoil her girlfriend was going through. “You fancy arresting me again?”

She held out her wrists in a playful gesture, Nicole’s eyes blank, her body rigid, colour draining from her face. “She was sorting out my neck.” Waverly continued. “She’s very good. Learnt in Bali. I so needed it. Say something. Don’t just stand there ogling me. I feel exposed.”

Nicole turned, no longer able to be in the same room. 

Waverly found her in the lounge, the necklace removed, placed neatly on the coffee table, Nicole staring at it. 

“What’s wrong? Nicole, tell me, please.”

“I want you out of here.”

Waverly reeled as the words hit home. “I don’t understand. Please. What’s brought this on?”

“In our bed.”

“The massage? Was hoping you could touch me like that.”

Nicole stood, rage replacing shock. “In our bed.”

“It was just a massage. Fine. Be like that. I’m not staying where I’m not wanted.”

Nicole picked up the necklace, holding it out, letting the charm dangle, its slow swing marking time as their relationship died before her eyes. 

Waverly snatched the chain out of Nicole’s hands, fighting back tears, her heart breaking. Storming out, Nicole heard her packing, the door slam, their life together over.

The rollercoaster ride had ended.

Robin was knocking at the door. He had seen Rosita, her wink suggesting she had been up to no good. He had seen Waverly rushing out, tears streaming down her face. He had tried to stop her, ask her what was wrong, knowing something had taken place. 

The door remained closed. No matter how many times he called out there was no response. Nicole was the other side, her head leaning against the wall, tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t face anyone. The image of Waverly enjoying Rosita’s attention playing over and over and over in her mind. The moans coming from her lips, the pleasure she was experiencing as hands caressed her naked body. Rosita. Her employee doing that to her girlfriend in their bed. 

She knew she had overreacted. And yet, and yet, that image was tearing her apart. She had accepted her status as a famous writer, accepted her relationship with a famous chef she once fancied, but this went to the core of her being. 

That she had caught Shae with a neighbour in their marital bed fuelled her reaction. Shae brushed that off too, telling her to accept she had needs to be satisfied, that it was perfectly normal.

Perfectly normal. Perfectly normal. Nothing was perfectly normal anymore. 

Her phone rang. Wynonna. She let it go to voicemail. It rang again. And again. And again, finally answering.

“You promised you’d look after her. You fucking promised.”

“I can’t talk right now.”

“You fucking will talk. You explain to me why my sister is sobbing her heart out upstairs. You fucking promised Haught.”

“Rosita.”

“What about Rosita? Who the fuck even is Rosita? If you tell me you’re seeing someone else, I’ll come round and break your legs.”

“Ask Waverly.”

She hung up. The phone rang again. And again. And again. And again.

“What do you mean ask Waverly? She can’t even get words out. I swear if you’ve cheated on my baby sister.”

“She was in bed, naked with Rosita.”

“Waverly? Seriously, who the fuck is Rosita?”

“My employee.”

“Waverly was shagging your employee?”

“A massage.”

“What sort of massage?”

“Full body.”

“Oh, Nicole. I’m sorry. Forget what I said. I need to talk to Waverly. I can’t believe she’s that fucking stupid. She’s just thrown everything away. I’ll call you back.”

Nicole emerged from the flat, in need of air, desperate to be anywhere other than in that flat. Robin spotted her coming down the stairs, winter coat on, a look that said she wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“Nicole, wait. What’s happened? Rosita won’t tell me. Keeps winking. Shall I tell her to go?”

“No. She can stay. Probably did me a favour. I need air.”

“Was it to do with Waverly? She left in a hurry.”

“I can’t talk.”

Her body crashed to the floor, her head hitting the side of the counter as she went down. Robin heard the sickening thud of the impact, watching Nicole’s red hair turn crimson. He dialled the emergency number, waiting for a response, telling them he needed an ambulance.

Nicole was conscious by the time Robin had finished his call. He helped her to the stockroom, ordering her to stay seated while he fetched a clean towel from the café, grabbing a roll of paper towels from the desk to remove the blood on the floor. 

Rosita appeared in the doorway. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It’s fine.”

“I can leave if you want.”

“I said, it’s fine.”

“Now that Waverly’s out of the picture, I don’t suppose you fancy a little one on one.”

Nicole shot her a look. “Seriously. Don’t fuck with me.”

“Thing is, I would like to fuck you. There’s something really, really cute about you.”

“You came between me and my girlfriend just so you could fuck me.”

“Waverly’s adorable, great body, but you’re more my type. Those sultry eyes.”

“Listen, what I said about you staying. I’ve changed my mind.”

“Suit yourself. I really am rather good with my hands. You won’t regret it. Call me.”

“I’ll pass. I’ll send your wages on.”

Rosita turned, Nicole watching as the minx went to get her coat, passing the stockroom on her way out, blowing her ex-boss a kiss. Robin returned with a towel, holding it to Nicole’s head, offering her a glass of water. 

“I’ve been played. I’ve absolutely been played by Rosita.”

“I’m guessing she tried to split you and Waverly.”

“And, I fell for it.”

“Tell me you haven’t dumped Waverly. Tell me you weren’t that stupid.”

Nicole attempted to nod her head, wincing at the pain. “Told her to leave. I’ve totally messed up my life. She’ll never take me back. And, I don’t blame her. I’m an utter failure.”

“Where’s she now?”

“Wynonna’s. I need to call her, tell her what a fool I’ve been.”

“No. You need to get to hospital. Leave this to me. I’ll sort it. This is partly, possibly 69%, my fault.”

Robin heard the paramedic enter the store, waving her over. He took Nicole’s phone, scrolling to find Wynonna’s number.

Wynonna answered. “She’s really sorry. She never meant to hurt you…”

“It’s Robin. Can’t talk long. Nicole’s on her way to hospital. Head wound. Tell Waverly. Bye.”

Robin handed the phone back to Nicole, waiting with her as the paramedic assessed her condition. She needed stitches. Robin watched as the ambulance moved off, hoping he had done enough to save his boss’s relationship.


	20. That poem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole almost says the thing on the tip of her tongue...

The hospital was busy. Nicole was taken to an empty cubicle in the Accident & Emergency department, told to wait for a nurse to dress the wound. Nicole lay back on the bed, her head throbbing, her hand touching her hair staring at reddened fingers as she brought them before her eyes. She had never been good with blood, her stomach lurched, a strong desire to puke forcing her to sit up.

The nurse entered, seeing the colour of her face, grabbing a cardboard basin just in time. “You really are in the wars, my dear,” she said, wiping Nicole’s mouth, helping her lie down. “I’ll get you water. Be right back.”

Nicole closed her eyes. Even with all the noise and bustle of the department she couldn’t let go of what she had done to Waverly. She heard the cubicle curtain rustle, a hand stroke her hair. That familiar scent. She wanted to open her eyes, keeping them closed, too scared to look at Waverly’s face.

“Hey, it’s me. I’m so, so sorry. I know you can’t forgive me, but I need you to know I love you. I’ll always love you and I’m truly sorry.”

Nicole opened her eyes. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It’s me who should be saying sorry.”

“So, where do we go from here?”

“Not Bali.”

“I’ve brought your necklace. I’ll understand if you don’t want to wear it.”

“Of course I want to. I just need my head stitched back on.”

“Am I forgiven?” Waverly asked.

“Yes. Am I forgiven?” Nicole replied.

Waverly leant in to give Nicole a kiss. “I may smell of puke.”

“You and your adorable chat up lines.”

The nurse returned with a plastic cup filled with water, coughing loudly, waiting for the pair to separate their lips. Wynonna was waiting outside the cubicle on her phone explaining to Doc she had nothing to do with Nicole being in the hospital. She stuck her head through the curtain. “You decent?”

“She’s OK. Waverly replied. “I leave her alone for five minutes and look what happens. Nicole Haught what am I going to do with you?”

It was on the tip of Nicole’s tongue to propose. “Move in with me.”

“I did. You chucked me out.”

“Ouch. Deserved that. I meant permanently. Move in with me for good.”

“I’ll have to redecorate the bedroom. And, get rid of those couches. Maybe a new kitchen. And, I’ll need book shelves for all my books.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“And, more storage for all my clothes.”

“Waverly, it’s Nicole’s place too.” Wynonna counselled. “Leave the poor girl something. She’s asking you to move in with her, not take on a major redecoration project.”

“I’ve left the bathroom. Although, it could do with a new shower.”

“Now you know why I wouldn’t let Waves move in with me.”

“It’s fine. She can do whatever she likes to the place. It’s hers now.”

“And, fairy lights,” Waverly continued. “Lots and lots of fairy lights.”

“Apart from those. I draw the line at fairy lights.”

Wynonna drove them back to the store, Waverly’s bags in the boot. She hugged her sister, then Nicole, checking the time on her phone, realising she needed to collect Alice from nursery. Robin was overjoyed when he saw the pair, hugging the reunited couple, managing to block the entrance to the annoyance of a customer attempting to leave. The tutting behind his back telling him they needed to break up their spontaneous love-in.

Waverly took Nicole’s hand, leading her upstairs, to their home. Bags deposited in the hall, they moved to the bedroom, Nicole changing her top, trying not to look at the blood stains on the shoulder and down the front, slipping out of her jeans lying on the bed, patting Waverly’s side. The feel of the towel annoyed her, throwing it over the side of the bed. Waverly lay beside her, her head resting on Nicole’s shoulder, happy to be back, happy to be with Nicole, realising what an idiot she had been. 

“I’ll get a set of keys cut for you tomorrow, if that’s OK.” Nicole said.

“I can go later if you like. The shop’s just up the road.”

“Thanks. I really need to help Robin in the store. It’s just him now.”

“Where’s Rosita?”

“Sacked. She played us. Wanted to get inside my briefs.”

“Thought it was my briefs she was aiming for.”

“She was. And mine. Whoever came first.”

“How’s your head?”

“Sore. I may need to be nursed back to health. Would nurse Waverly like to help me relax?”

“Nurse Waverly would.”

Waverly made dinner, Robin joining them since Jeremy was away on a business trip for a few days. “Sorry about Rosita. I knew she had a reputation, assumed she had calmed down after her travels. Had an affair with one of the lecturers on her course. And, two of the students. Think she had her sights on Jeremy for a time.”

“She was good fun,” Waverly offered. “Sorry, no, what I meant was she knew how to...Nicole, stop staring at me. I’m getting flustered.”

“Carry on, I’ll bring you a shovel.”

“I think what Waverly is trying to say,” Robin offered, taking a mouthful of wine, “is she knew how to use her skills. Wait I haven’t finished. To make people. Almost there. Feel the need to take all their clothes off. And, we’re done.” 

Waverly and Nicole glared at Robin. “I’m definitely fired aren’t I?”

“I’ve fired enough staff for one day.”

“Right. I’m off. Try to get some sleep. I know you won’t, but thought I’d mention it.”

They moved to the lounge, Nicole pouring Waverly a whiskey, handing it to her. “To us.”

“I wish you were divorced. Would be nice to think you’re all mine.”

Nicole sipped her water. The thought had been on her mind. The paperwork underway.

The move to the flat took several days, everyone lending a hand to relocate all of Waverly’s belongings. She had decided to rent out her own place. Even though she was sad to say goodbye to it, she knew what she was doing with Nicole was the next phase in her life. She had reined back her decorating ambitions, but insisted on a desk in the spare room for her to work on her novels. 

Her preference for writing in a journal had come through necessity. Aaron banned her from having any type of computer in the apartment, his excuse they gave him migraines, his ulterior motive to stifle her work. Forced to write everything by hand, she came to love the process, the cathartic nature of watching her thoughts being etched out on paper. It trained her to focus on every word, knowing her only method of editing was a small eraser at the end of her mechanical pencils.

Her publishers had been accommodating, Waverly submitting her drafts by hand, a member of the team typing them up, sending her a copy to revise by hand. Aaron was devious enough not to cause too much disruption with HarperCollins, charming his way into meetings, listening attentively, offering encouraging nods whenever required. Staff at the publishing house were always excited when he turned up, asking for his autograph, getting photos with him. Always charming, always accommodating. He could turn it on like a tap.

He could turn it off just as easily. The hours after a particularly fruitful meeting spent tearing Waverly down. Belittling her, lying that her work would never be good enough to sustain a long-term career, lying that HarperCollins was about to drop her. 

She listened, knowing he was angry at her success, sensing the jealousy behind each barbed comment, sitting quietly as his mood darkened the more wine he consumed. She would pray for him to pass out on the couch. At least she could get on with her writing, her sanctuary from the miserable world she had fallen into. His mood with a hangover even darker. He would sulk, ignore her, heading out to his restaurant early afternoon without as much as a goodbye. 

Why did she stay? Just like the girl in Longfellow’s poem, when he was good, he was very good indeed. But when he was bad he was horrid.

He could be very good to her, when he chose. Only when he chose. A good night at the restaurant, a successful meeting with his own publishers, a rave review about his TV show, anything that made him feel like a king. Made him feel important. More important than Waverly. He would indulge her, at the same time reminding her she needed him to make it in the cutthroat world she now inhabited. She knew he was lying, but his lies had a way of whispering enough truth to feed her insecurities, make her doubt herself. 

Even with Wynonna begging her to leave, she was unable. A toxic bond, keeping her handcuffed, knowing he was hurting her, professionally, emotionally, never physically. So many times she contemplated walking out, taking nothing but her journal. She never did. He had reduced her to such a state she was unable to act on her own.

The removal of her phone was the defining moment. It opened her eyes, finally, gave her the courage to act. It had been her lifeline to the outside world, to Wynonna. He knew that. Jealous of their relationship, he positioned himself between them, gradually removing Wynonna from her life. She lasted two days without a phone, panic setting in on the third day, forcing her to write that letter.

She needed Wynonna to rescue her. Doc was waiting in the car. Wynonna helped gather up the few belongings she didn’t want to leave behind. They were gone within ten minutes. Aaron had been with his agent most of the day celebrating the renewal of his show. He returned to their apartment after a boozy lunch wondering why Waverly wasn’t at the door to greet him. 

She was gone.

His phone hit the wall with such force it broke the screen, leaving a hole. He knew where she was headed, too drunk to drive he vowed to get her back the next day. Doc answered the door when he turned up, pinned him against the wall, threatened to have him arrested if he didn’t leave. Aaron took the hint. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to fight him, reduced to standing on the pavement opposite the house for an hour in an attempt to intimidate her. 

Having taken her phone, he had no way of contacting her other than through Wynonna. His repeated calls went to voicemail, his texts unanswered. He managed to get her new number through her publishers. A junior member of staff accidentally revealing it after falling for his charms. Waverly changed her number, instructing her publishers she was through with Aaron, asking them not to pass on any messages. 

He occasionally turned up at book signings in London. Waverly always knew when he was present. An excited murmur in the crowd. He managed to get her number once more through a friend, dating her simply to get to Waverly. Waverly never forgave her. 

She refused to meet him, eventually agreeing to remain in contact only by phone. She was tired of being chased, tired of running away, tired of hiding. She wanted normality. A life where she could write without having to worry about a toxic ex-partner constantly pursuing her, screwing with her. Things settled down for a while. He seemed calmer, more like the person she had fallen for. She even contemplated giving him another chance, until Wynonna found out and put her straight. 

Nicole had cleared most of her things from the bedroom. She watched as box after box entered the flat wondering if there would be enough room for it all and them. Waverly was in her element, organising where everything went, bossing Wynonna around, Doc quietly doing what he was told. Alice was in the lounge drawing. Nicole promised to read to her if she was good and stayed out of everyone’s way.

The transfer complete, Nicole treated them to a takeaway, her new family sitting round the kitchen table, laughing, sharing wine. Wynonna even remembered to bring Alice’s favourite food with her, in case they were delayed. A perfect end to a perfect day.


	21. That tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole wants to be with Waverly...

Waverly had to go on tour. Her publishers were keen to have her make personal appearances in the lead up to releasing her eleventh novel and the start of filming her fourth. It would mean weeks on the road, travelling between venues, signing books, posing for photos, feigning interest on TV shows. They discussed where she would be, when Nicole could get to see her. She didn’t want to be away, her life having slipped into a comfortable routine around the bookstore.

Two new members of staff had been employed. Both necessary given Nicole’s increasing absence and the store’s growing success with a famous author in residence. Word had got out, social media being what it is, many flocking on the off chance of catching a glimpse of Alice Makepeace at work upstairs. She was always polite, always accommodating, even when it meant stopping her train of thought on a particular scene. She knew how much her presence meant to the store, seeing how happy Nicole was with the increased business.

The days she couldn’t work downstairs, she hid herself away in the flat pounding out ideas. Her favourite time of day shortly after dinner, Nicole sitting in the spare room with her, listening as story ideas and plots were revealed. She loved watching her reaction. The same wide-eyed fascination as her niece’s. 

How lucky to have stumbled across Nicole’s bookstore. A throw away comment by Wynonna to stop hiding brought her to its door. A dull grey afternoon, the skies threatening to drown anyone foolish enough to be out. The delight on entering, the intoxicating smell of wood burning, the friendly guy smiling at her by the cash register, the majestic feel to the building, the quiet reverence winning her heart in that moment. Easy to tell it was once a church. The imposing architecture, the scale of the windows, the coloured glass, the honey-coloured wooden pulpit with ornate carvings. Warm, welcoming, a wonderland for words. Everything a bookstore should be. 

She took her time browsing the shelves, selecting two books by new authors. Moving upstairs, large leather chairs placed strategically near radiators invited customers to linger. She assessed each, selecting the one that looked most comfortable. As soon as she sat she knew she was home. 

A woman passed carrying a handful of books. Waverly wondering whether she had more of a book obsession than her. Tall, extremely good looking, hair colour to die for, slightly older, she appeared content in this world. She watched as the woman placed each book in a specific location on the shelf. A member of staff she surmised. Their eyes met, only for a moment, a spark ignited, nervous smiles exchanged, the woman catching her elbow on one of the units, dropping several books in the process. A flustered rounding up of escaped items. She was gone. 

Waverly opened one of the novels she intended to buy. Several hours later she was still in the same position, the outside world having disappeared, her mind lost in the fictive dream. The woman returned, another handful of books, stopping to place one on a nearby shelf.

“We have a café.”

Waverly looked up. “Great. Sorry, I should go.”

“It’s raining.”

“Looks like I’ll have to stay a while longer.”

“You can stay as long as you want.”

“Thanks. Best suggestion I’ve heard all day. I could live here.”

“No. I meant, you can stay for. While we’re. I need to put these on the shelves.”

Waverly watched as that woman attempted to place items she had in her hands, conscious of eyes on her. No longer able to endure the scrutiny, she dumped the final few scurrying away. Waverly would have liked to have chatted, realising whoever this person was they were too nervous to strike up a lengthy conversation. She told herself she would make an effort to say hello the next time she was in the store.

The rain had stopped by the time she left. Two books purchased, a new place found to write, she headed home. For some reason that woman remained on her mind. Something about her Waverly was unable to put her finger on. Her looks certainly were distinctive. Not the best dressed in the world by Waverly’s standards. A unique combination of beauty and humility. Her mind began playing with ideas for a story based around her character. The one thing Waverly was good at was knowing what her readers loved and this person would be ideal. 

Her visits to the store became more frequent, sitting upstairs, waiting for the odd occasion she could make small talk with her new muse. Nicole, according to her name tag. She liked the name. She also liked the way Nicole held her gaze. Only for the briefest of moments, enough to let Waverly know she was interested. She spotted the identical water bottle one Saturday afternoon on her way out, Nicole ringing up her purchase at the cash register. She always bought at least one book per visit, a thank you for being allowed to stay for so long in this sanctuary.

She longed to get to know her, find out what she was like as a person, why she worked in a bookstore in a small town when she could so easily see her in London in some high-flying role, designer suit and a killer haircut. Why would someone bury themselves in such a place, she wondered, when they could be out enjoying the world?

The night they finally met replayed in her mind often. The wait at the bus stop in the snow, getting colder by the minute. The bus delayed due to the weather conditions, not expected to arrive for at least another half an hour, if at all, according to the app on her phone. She had forgotten her gloves, shoving her hands deep into her pockets in an effort to keep them warm. The snow was coming down hard. She called Wynonna, shivering, her fingers beginning to turn blue, waiting for her to answer. It went to voicemail, remembering her sister was entertaining guests that night and probably trying to put an over-excited Alice to bed early so Santa could visit. She knew her sister would have dropped everything in a heartbeat to get to her. 

The only other person she felt safe to approach was the woman in the bookstore. The chance to be with the person she secretly fancied. That woman, too cute to even contemplate. Should she wait, or take a chance on this cute person who let her sit upstairs, uninterrupted?

“Can you promise me one thing?” Waverly asked, taking Nicole’s face, planting a kiss.

“Nope. Not even a chance. Not happening. Even with those doe eyes. OK, what?”

“Promise me, you’ll never change?”

“Clothing?”

“Stop it. You. Always be you. OK?”

“I promise never to change my clothing, unless it’s a costume. Should we do a literary themed fancy dress party for next Christmas?”

“Or, a summer one. I’d love to dress up as Hermione Grainger.”

“I’d love you to dress up as Hermione Granger. Always fancied her.”

“Nicole! Obliviate.”

“I have no idea who you are.”

“God, I love you.”

“Wingdarium leviosa. Nope, you had too much dessert for that spell.”

“And now, you are in so much trouble.”

A car arrived to collect Waverly early next morning. Bags deposited in the boot, a long goodbye in front of the bookstore, Nicole watched as it turned the corner. 

She was gone.

Without Waverly, the store felt lifeless as if its heart had been stopped. At one time, it was all her own heart had wanted. A sanctuary from a failed marriage and a short, utterly miserable career in marketing. It was Gus’ suggestion she come work for her, a chance to clear her head and her heart. To step back, assess her life choices, plan what she wanted to do going forward. 

She had no intentions of staying any longer than a few months. Her mother suggested she travel, broaden her horizons, get a suntan. Having spent hours hidden away in the travel section, the realisation dawned on her one afternoon there was nowhere else she wanted to be. This was her place of travel. Her mind could go wherever it liked, unhindered.

Her decision made, Gus knew it was time for her to step back letting her niece take over. Despite initial reservations, Nicole took on the new role of running the store, throwing herself into the task of generating more business, her marketing background finally being put to good use. She reintroduced the book clubs, opened the café in the basement, invited local authors to give talks. She could but dream of having someone as famous as Alice Makepeace in her store, her limited budget extending only as far as free drinks and snacks for those attending events.

What would she do with herself now that Waverly was away, she thought, knowing she had a backlog of books to read, none of them of any interest to her right at that moment. Robin breezed in, standing behind her unnoticed, tapping her on the shoulder making her jump.

“Don’t do that. You know I might pass out.”

“Waverly gone?”

“Won’t get to see her for three weeks. She flies out to New York tonight, then Toronto, Vancouver, Los Angeles, Buenos Aires and back to Europe. I’m hoping to meet up in Berlin.”

“Lucky girl getting to see all those cities. What I would give to travel like that, especially if someone else was paying.”

“Don’t think it’s all that much fun. Mostly airport lounges, hotel rooms, crowded bookstores. We’ve scheduled facetime calls, but I hate them, never know what to say and then think of everything I did want to say afterwards.”

“Write it down.”

“The call? What, take notes?”

Robin rolled his eyes. “Fuck, you’re hard work sometimes. Write down what you want to say in the form of a love letter. Read it to Waverly.”

“No, I couldn’t. Could I? I mean, what if it’s rubbish? She’s a writer.”

“My dearest, dearest deluded boss. Waverly loves you. Just the thought of you writing her a love letter, reading it out to her, will guarantee you mind-blowing sex in Berlin.”

“Right. The sex part sounds good. So, I just sit down and write?”

“No, it’s best to stand when writing love letters, so I’ve been informed.”

“Right. Got it.”

“For the love of God. Nicole, go upstairs, sit in Waverly’s chair and write from your heart.”


	22. That letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole writes to Waverly...

Nicole sat in Waverly’s chair, an A4 notepad on her lap, a pencil in her hand. She preferred pens, but wanted to know what it felt like revealing her thoughts by the same method Waverly used. The blank page stared back at her. What to write, she wondered. How could she put what was in her heart on paper?

Dear Waverly,

I’m so glad you came to the store. You changed my world for the better. I am sitting in your chair writing this, with a pencil and paper which has lines. It feels odd.

She looked at her first effort, tearing the sheet off the pad, screwing it in a ball.

Dear Waverly,

You are my world. I know you are currently travelling the world, but to me I don’t need to travel the world when I have you.

Robin approached. “How’s it going?”

“Fucking impossible. I write like I’m putting together a business proposal. This is hopeless. She’s going to think I don’t love her.”

“Relax. We got this. Give me the pad and pencil. Tell me what you want to put.”

“That she’s my north. That I could listen to her voice for eternity. Stare into her eyes, caress her hair when she’s sleeping. That I thank the Universe for allowing an angel to fall into my life. That my world was without colour, without music until she arrived. Are you writing any of this down?”

“Nope. That’s your job. I was drawing an airplane with me waving from one of the windows.”

“I seriously, seriously will fire you.”

“I will leave you now to pencil your masterpiece. Don’t come down until you’ve written your first letter.”

“OK boss.”

Nicole sat for the rest of the morning desperately trying to put words to her thoughts. A pile of scrunched-up sheets littered the floor around her. She stood, stretching her body, finally understanding why Waverly complained so often about having a sore neck after hours of sitting in the same position.

Robin was by the cash register. “You done?”

“Think so. At least, I hope so. It feels odd writing my feelings down. Like they’re exposed.”

“Remember, the objective of this exercise is to get you exposed in Berlin, preferably in a hotel room, with an equally exposed girlfriend.”

“Right. Full exposure.”

One hour to go before Waverly was due to call. Nicole didn’t know what to do with herself, half-reading a book, making herself a sandwich, leaving it uneaten, pouring a glass of whiskey for courage. She opened the wardrobe in their bedroom, taking in the scent of Waverly’s clothes, running her hand over the items, feeling her connection to the wearer. The love letter in her hand. 

Her phone rang. Waverly’s face appeared. She looked tired. “Hi, it’s me. Forgot how hard travelling is. How’s the bookstore?”

“It’s fine. I’ve written you something.”

“I don’t have long. I’m due to meet journalists shortly.”

“I need to read this to you. Can you hear me?”

“Yes. Go on. What is it?”

“A love letter.”

“Wow. OK, definitely listening.”

“I’m really nervous. I hope you like it.”

“I’ll love it.”

“I don’t have to read it. I can save it for when I see you in Berlin.”

“Nicole, please, please read it. The suspense is killing me.”

“Right. OK, here goes:

My Waverly,

I thought it would be easy to write a love letter to you knowing how I feel. I assumed the words would flow and it would be the simplest task to tell you how much you mean to me. Sitting here, in your favourite chair, I now know it is the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. 

Why? Because, there are no words that could ever do justice to what is in my heart. No phrase, no witty observation, no sentiment enough to capture what you mean in my life. All I can say is I love you, with all my heart and hoping beyond hope you love me. I am yours.”

Nicole looked at her phone. “Are they happy tears, or sad tears?”

“Happy tears. Oh, Nicole, that’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Thank you. I can’t believe you did this. I so, so, so love you it’s untrue.”

“Robin’s idea. He said it would guarantee we make love in Berlin.”

“Typical. Only Robin could think along those lines. And, yes can’t wait for Berlin. I wish I could stay longer. God, I love you.”

“I love you too. Hello.”

The connection lost, Nicole sat hugging her phone. She had done it. She had written her heart on a piece of paper for Waverly. 

They looked forward to their facetime moments. Nicole wrote more love letters, the task of expressing herself became less daunting with each attempt. Waverly’s love letters to her were exquisite. As much as Nicole wished she had her gift, she was satisfied with her own efforts. They came from her, which is all that mattered ultimately. Sometimes the clumsiest of statements can reveal more about a person’s heart than the most polished prose.

She counted down the days till they would be together in Berlin. Ticket booked, passport ready, Euros in wallet, Robin would be in charge while she was away. He promised not to read smutty books to the under-five’s. He promised not to hold a rave on the first evening she was away. He promised to ring her if he had any questions. She knew the store was in safe hands. 

Her plane touched down shortly after 3pm. Waverly had arrived hours earlier, scheduled to make several appearances across the city over the next few days. Her books had been well-received in Europe, her next port of call Paris, then on to London. She was staying at Hotel am Steinplatz in the heart of the city, its art deco interior matching Waverly’s tastes perfectly. Nicole’s cab pulled up outside, the driver retrieving her bag from the boot. She stood in reception waiting to check in.

A woman approached. “Hi, Nicole. I’m Jessica. Waverly’s at a book signing. She asked me to wait for you, take you to her. I’ll let you put your things in the room. Would you like to get something to eat before we go?”

“No. Thanks. I ate on the plane. How did you know it was me?”

“Waverly’s description. Look out for a tall, red-haired, stunningly attractive woman.”

“Right. Thanks.”

“Plus, she showed me a photo of you on her phone.”

“Oh, right. Thanks.”

“I’ll wait here for you in the lobby. Take your time. Waverly’s at the store for another hour.”

Nicole headed to the room, Waverly’s perfume hitting her as soon as she entered. She was desperate to see her, dropping her bag on the floor, rushing downstairs.

“Gosh, that was quick. I have a car waiting outside. Shall we.”

They sped through the city, Nicole barely able to see out the darkened windows at the back. So much for enjoying the sights. Waverly was right, most of her travels were simply a movement from one room to another. Rarely did she get any free time, or the chance to explore where she was staying. 

The car pulled up outside the Dussmann culture store. Jessica hopped out, holding the door open for Nicole. She wasn’t used to such treatment. They entered, Jessica leading the way to The English Bookshop on the ground floor. It was busy. Jessica weaved her way through the throng, Nicole almost running to keep up, not wanting to lose sight of her. They eventually came to an area roped off from the rest of the shop.

Her heart leapt. There was Waverly, sitting behind a desk happily signing books for eager fans, allowing photos to be taken, smiling, shaking hands, listening attentively to whatever she was being told. Nicole wanted to rush over, take her in her arms, feel her soft lips on hers.

“She’ll be finished in twenty minutes, if you don’t mind waiting here.”

“Of course. I’ll wait here.”

“Would you like me to get you a coffee, or a water?”

“No. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“I’ll take you over when she’s done.”

Nicole waited, watching Waverly at work. She had missed her more than she realised was possible. Her heart pounding through her chest, praying she didn’t faint. Jessica went over, whispering in Waverly’s ear, her eyes scanning the crowd, spotting Nicole, her hand instinctively going to her hair to brush it back, something Nicole noticed she did every time she went to kiss her. Waverly’s tongue wetting her lips in anticipation. Nicole could feel her body responding, her eyes fixed on her face, reacquainting herself with Waverly’s beautiful features. 

Hands in pockets, her fingers beat a nervous rhythm against her leg, her foot tapping in time, she waited. The queue of fans seemed never ending. She wondered if she would have to wait longer. Twenty minutes already felt like an eternity. 

Jessica came over. “She’s signing the last few. Did you want to go over?”

Nicole nodded, suddenly not so sure she could walk up to Waverly with so many people around her. Waverly looked over seeing the look on Nicole’s face, realising this was a bigger deal than she had bargained. Excusing herself she made her way over, taking Nicole’s hand, giving her a peck on the cheek.

“Hello you. How was your flight?”

“It was fine. You look amazing.”

“Thank you. So do you. Can’t tell you how much I need you here.”

“Doesn’t all this bother you?”

“A little. I’m used to it now. Smile, shake, sign. And repeat. Becomes automatic.”

“But, all these people wanting to know you. Doesn’t it scare you?”

“It did at first. I wanted to hide away. Didn’t feel worthy of their admiration. Still don’t if I’m honest. I just pretend they’re here for Alice Makepeace, not Waverly Earp.”

“That’s actually a pretty clever trick.”

“I know. One of the PR team told me. You could always think you’re the gold power ranger, here to arrest me.”

“I am so wanting to go back to the hotel right now.”

“Me too. I need a few more minutes here. Do you want to come over?”

“Not really. I’m too nervous.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun. You can sit next to me.”

Nicole followed Waverly over to the desk, a few fans in the crowd whispering, looks of admiration. Several were taking photos. A woman at the front of the queue asked who Nicole was, Waverly introducing her as her girlfriend to the delighted gasps of those who heard. 

It didn’t take long for it to be all over Twitter.


	23. That necklace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole gives Waverly her heart...

It didn’t take long for Aaron Hardy to see the Twitter buzz around Waverly’s new partner. He stared at the photo, pouring himself another large glass of wine, spilling some. She looked happy, not grieving his absence as he so often imagined. Her choice massaged his fragile ego. A nobody. A woman. Someone who, according to his view of life, was not competition.

It played on his mind. He dropped his phone on the low table his feet were currently occupying, picking up his glass, slugging the contents, filling it once more. A message appeared from an equally drunk friend who had seen the photo. A rude comment about Waverly. A joke about him having had a lucky escape. Hardy sent a witty reply agreeing. Schoolboy humour to soothe his pricked pride.

It played on his mind. Despite what his friend said, he couldn’t shake the thought he might be ridiculed for not being able to satisfy her. What if Waverly were to say this woman, this nobody, was better than him in bed? What if? What if?

It played on his mind. He scrolled through the tweets. She was in Berlin, then Paris, then London in five days’ time. Near enough to get it straight from Waverly what she was playing at. To tell her to drop this nobody, this woman. That her choices still affected him. His career. Made him look bad. The legal letter from Nicole’s uncle warned not to make any further contact. He knew the consequences of such action. It had been spelled out in black and white. This was different. The more he thought about it, the more he drank, the more he considered her actions a personal slap in his face. 

Jessica escorted them back to the waiting car. Waverly was shattered, barely able to keep her eyes open. She rested on Nicole, letting the motion of the car send her to sleep. Nicole had to shake her when they arrived at the hotel. Jessica suggested they order room service, get an early night. Waverly had interviews the next morning, another book signing, afterwards she would be free. Time for the couple to do their own thing. 

Nicole opened the door to their room, taking Waverly’s hand leading her to the bed, telling her to sit, taking off her shoes. 

“Lie down. You’re exhausted.”

“But, I want to be with you,” Waverly yawned. “I’ve been frustrated ever since New York.”

“That can wait. You need to rest. There’s plenty of time.”

“Can we cuddle? I need to feel you.”

“Only cuddling. And, we keep our clothes on.”

“No fair.”

Nicole snuggled up to Waverly. She could feel her drifting off in her arms. The most blissful feeling in the world. The two slept peacefully, content to be together again, knowing they had a few days to enjoy each other’s company around Waverly’s hectic schedule. 

The phone in their room woke them very early the next morning. A courtesy call to say she needed to be in the lobby in one hour. Waverly showered first, Nicole sitting on the edge of the bath watching, desperate to join her, knowing they would never make it to the lobby in time if she did. Her turn, Waverly lingering, knowing she had to get ready, just as keen to remain in the steamy atmosphere, soaking up the vision before her. 

They both agreed they would return to the bathroom later to continue where they really didn’t want to leave off. Nicole had placed a small box on the table by the window. Waverly spotted it as soon as she sat to dry her hair.

“What’s this?”

“Open it and you’ll see.”

“So thoughtful, thank you. Can you put them on for me?”

“A reminder of our journey.”

Nicole placed the next charms on the bracelet. A tiny set of keys and a love letter. She had purchased two more charms the day she got these. They were for later, when the time was right.

“I also got you this. I hope you like it.”

She brought out the distinctive turquoise bag Waverly recognised immediately.

“You didn’t. Nicole, you shouldn’t have.”

“I can take it back if you like.”

“Let me at least have a look.”

Waverly opened the box. A beautiful white gold heart and key studded with diamonds on a delicate necklace. 

“Oh, my God. But, I was looking at this for you. How did you know?”

“Wynonna. I can still take it back if you want.”

“It’s perfect. Can I keep it for a little while?”

“You can keep it forever.”

They hugged. Waverly stifling happy tears, knowing her eyes would be puffy if she gave way to her emotions. Nicole helped her put the necklace on. It suited her skin tone perfectly. Feminine, delicate, enduring.

Jessica was waiting in the lobby. “Wow, love the necklace. So you. Nicole are you happy to come with us to the studios?”

“If it’s OK with Waverly.”

“I’m not leaving you out of my sight. Ever.”

“Even when I go to the bathroom?”

“Especially when you go to the bathroom.”

“Right. Oh, right.”

“Sorry, we need to get going,” Jessica interrupted. “I’ve ordered breakfast at the media centre. You’ll have a chance to eat before the barrage of questions start. All a bit of a rush I’m afraid. Soon be over. Ever onwards, as they say.”

She marched ahead to the car, opening the door, waiting for them to get in. Nicole would never get used to being waited on. The interviews over, it was on to the book signing. Shakespeare and Sons. A smaller venue, boasting a café serving bagels. Nicole had an opportunity to browse while Waverly was doing her thing. She visited the café, making a mental note of its menu. 

Signing over, Jessica offered the car for the afternoon, the pair agreeing they would prefer to walk, take in the city. They strolled hand in hand, a bright, crisp day adding to their joy. Alone at last to do what they wanted. They eventually worked out how to use Berlin’s rail system to return to the hotel. An adventure. Something to remember for the rest of their lives. 

Jessica sent a text to say a few media friends, over for an arts festival, would be joining her for drinks in the bar if they were interested. The evening was spent in their lively company, Nicole sitting quietly absorbing the atmosphere, nervous to show herself up in front of Waverly’s agent. She wanted to return to the room, just be with Waverly, understanding this was part of what she had to do for Waverly’s career. Waverly could see Nicole was struggling, calling it a day at ten o’clock. 

“Thank you for tonight,” Waverly said as they entered the room.

“It hasn’t started yet.”

“I meant, for sitting with Jessica and her gang. Keeping me company.”

“It was fun. I enjoyed it.”

“You yawned four times.”

“I’ll admit when that guy made the same joke twice I lost the plot.”

“So did I. Glad you said that. Love Jessica, but her friends can be a little overpowering.”

“Not as overpowering as the gold power ranger.”

“Tell me you didn’t.”

“Tell me you secretly wanted me to bring it.”

Their time together ended too soon. Nicole accompanied her to the airport. Her flight took her to London, Waverly’s to Paris. They sat in the executive lounge, knowing their short time together was coming to an end, both wanting to be heading in the same direction. Nicole’s flight was called first. She could see Waverly tearing up, knowing it would upset her to linger.

“I’ll call you when I get back. I’ll see you in London. It’s only a few days.”

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“Get Paris and London out of the way. Whatever you want to do I’ll support you.”

Waverly’s sobs drew attention from other travellers in the lounge. Jessica arrived in the nick of time to console her, allowing Nicole to catch her flight. She felt dreadful leaving her in that airport lounge. She didn’t want to get in the way of her career. She would follow her anywhere, but it was clearly weighing on Waverly’s mind. 

A few days and they would be together again.


	24. That man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole meets her idol...

Waverly was on her way to London. Paris had gone well, Jessica was pleased with the excellent press coverage from the tour and fans were excited for the new novel and film. She made no further mention of giving it all up, Nicole assuming it was said in a moment of tiredness and frustration.

Nicole’s train would arrive shortly after midday. The same train she took the first time she visited Waverly in London. This was the last day of the tour, a car would take them home once the book signing was done. Waterstone’s on Piccadilly was heaving, a long queue of customers snaking its way down the street waiting patiently to enter. 

Nicole assumed a big event was taking place alongside the book signing until she spotted copies of Waverly’s books in the hands of those in the line. They were all there for Alice Makepeace. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for her girlfriend. So many fans had made the effort to stand waiting for the chance to meet her, to be in her presence, to have her write a personal note inside one of her books just for them.

She entered, moving slowly through the store, making her way towards the front of the queue. Jessica was talking to someone behind Waverly. Nicole didn’t know whether to wave, or hang back. She decided to hang back, not wanting to bring attention to herself. Jessica spotted her, waving, Nicole waving back. It caught Waverly’s attention. She smiled, returning to the message she was currently writing for an adoring fan.

“Lovely to see you again,” Jessica said, planting a kiss on Nicole’s cheek. “Great turn out. Much better than we expected. Harpers are over the moon.”

“How was Paris?” Nicole asked.

“The best. I’ve got to say there’s nothing quite like that city. You and Waverly must go. She kept mentioning how much she wanted to take you there.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Was she OK when I left?”

“A little upset. OK, very upset, but she’s a sensitive soul. What with the travelling and long hours, I’m amazed she keeps going. At least she has you now, not that jerk of an ex.”

“Different person in private.”

Jessica’s eyes caught someone in the crowd. “You can say that again. I don’t believe it. He wouldn’t.”

“Sorry, believe what? Who wouldn’t?”

“The arrogance. I’ll have to tell Waverly.”

“Tell her what?”

“Aaron Hardy. He’s behind you.”

Nicole swung round. He was standing no more than ten feet away, smiling, shaking hands, having his photo taken. She stared, anger and excitement rising through her body. She was finally in his presence. Their eyes met. He knew her. She could sense his disdain. She smiled instinctively, unable to stop herself. 

He walked towards her, movements deliberate, intimidating, holding out his hand, a fake smile on display beneath contemptuous eyes. “Aaron Hardy. You must be Waverly’s new thing.”< /p>

Nicole’s hand went out, without realising, feeling his against hers. Large, cold, rough in places from years working in kitchens. Her eyes scanned his face, unable to break away. 

He dropped his hand first. “And you are?”

Before she could stop herself she had given him her name. A foolish move. Such a foolish move. Jessica’s hand was on her back. “Aaron, so good to see you again. Congratulations on the TV show.”

“Thank you. I knew it was in the bag. The ratings for the last series were exceptional. They’d hardly drop one of their star hosts.”

“Well. Mustn’t keep you. I’m sure you are very busy these days.”

“Extremely. I’m just off to a meeting. Had to pop in and congratulate Waverly on her second film.” 

“Very kind of you. I’ll pass on your regards. She’s rather busy at the moment.”

“I don’t mind waiting. I’m sure she wants to see me.”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Nicole interrupted. “She doesn’t want to see you.”

“Is that so?” he smirked. “You think you know Waverly better than I do?”

“No. I mean. My uncle’s letter was very clear. No contact.”

“Let Waverly tell me that to my face.”

“She can’t. I keep telling you. No contact.”

Jessica could see the stand-off between Waverly’s two lovers becoming heated. Not wanting to cause a scene, she did the one thing she really did not want to do. “Aaron, wait here. I’ll get Waverly to come over.”

Nicole saw the look on Waverly’s face as Jessica whispered in her ear. She stood, putting the pen down slowly, collecting herself, moving round the desk, head down. Jessica stayed by her side, a hand on her back for reassurance.

“So good to see you again,” Hardy purred. “I hear you have a new film.”

Waverly looked up briefly, catching his eye, unable to smile, her voice but a whisper. “Good to see you.”

“And, this is your new partner?”

Waverly nodded, looking at Nicole, eyes pleading to be anywhere but here with him. 

“I’m so sorry Aaron,” Jessica interrupted. “We really are pressed for time. I’m sure there’ll be other occasions for you both to catch up. Congratulations again on your TV show. Must remember to watch it this time.”

Aaron shot her a look, returning his gaze to Waverly. “I won’t keep you. One piece of advice. I recommend you keep your love life off social media. You know how these things can turn nasty.”

“I don’t need your advice.”

“Really? Look who you ended up with.”

They watched as he sauntered out of the store, content at having ruined her day. Hoping he had ruined her relationship with this woman in the process. 

Waverly’s arms reached out for Nicole, wrapping them round her waist, burying her head in her shoulder. Nicole stroked her hair. “He’s gone. It’s OK. He’s gone. He just wanted to mess with your mind.”

“He wants to destroy us. I saw the look in his eyes.”

“He can’t hurt us. We’re safe.”

“He was here. Nicole, he came here even though he isn’t supposed to. He doesn’t care.”

“I’ll let my uncle know. We can get an order placed on him to keep away.”

Jessica rubbed Waverly’s back. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I should have had him removed.”

“He would have kicked up a fuss,” Waverly replied. “You did nothing wrong. It’s Aaron being Aaron.” 

Nicole watched as Waverly sat once more at the desk, smiling at fans, shaking hands, having her photo taken, knowing what had taken place. 

Her heart breaking for her.

The car journey home gave them time to talk. Waverly was still in shock at Aaron’s appearance in the store. Nicole was fast realising what Waverly and others had been saying, he considered himself above the law. He had wanted to speak to Waverly, riled by her new relationship, turning up where he knew he would be given access to her. He was clever enough to know she would not want to cause a scene in front of her fans. A master of twisting any situation to his advantage.

“I’m never going to be rid of him.”

“This is what he wants. He wants you to feel scared. He wants you to think he’s still in control. Waverly, look at me. He can’t touch us.”

“I know. I know. I have this awful feeling he won’t stop till he’s crushed what we have.”

“Let him try. I will get my power ranger friends to blast him.”

“I love you. I know I keep saying it. But, I really do love you.”

“How about we take a trip? Just the two of us. Say, Paris. Long weekend.”

“I’d love that. Hold on. Did Jessica say anything to you?”

“She may have casually mentioned you want to take me in Paris.”

“Take you TO Paris. Happy to take you in Paris as well.”

“So, to recap. You’ve taken me in the bookstore, you’ve taken me in London, and in Berlin. That shower was so good.”

“Can we get a shower like that in the flat?”

“Of course. You can take me in there too.”

“Nicole! How long till we’re home?”

“Another hour. Mind you, look where we are?”

“In a car.”

“Where exactly in a car?”

“We can’t. What about the driver?”

“I’d rather it was just you. Threesomes are not my thing.”

The hour passed quickly. Soft moans coming from the back seat, a blanket over their legs concealing the cause.

The flat was cold when they entered. Jumpers and socks keeping some parts warm, hands and lips assisting. They didn’t care. They had each other. Waverly fell asleep in her arms, Nicole brushing the hair away from her face, forever worried she would suffocate. Her real motivation to gaze at her face. So peaceful. Her Alice Makepeace.

They decided Paris in March would be perfect. Waverly had important meetings scheduled in February, Nicole needed to focus on the bookstore. Robin had done an excellent job managing it in her absence. No parties, no disgruntled customers, no traumatised little children. She was confident she could leave the store in his capable hands in future. The new staff had settled in. Pleasant enough, not as sexually voracious as Rosita which was a bonus. 

Things seemed to have settled down with Aaron Hardy. Her uncle sent him a stronger worded letter explaining any further contact would not be in his best interests. It did the trick. No calls, no texts, no unwelcome appearances. As far as the couple were concerned, he was out of their lives for good. 

Waverly was slowly transforming the flat to suit her tastes. Nicole noticed, choosing to let her make it her home. It did feel more homely and Christmassy, given all the fairy lights that kept appearing. Slightly unnerving waking up in the middle of the night with a blue glow over the bed. Waverly was happy which was all that mattered.

Jessica called to say a meeting had been arranged to take forward Waverly’s idea of writing thrillers. She needed to be in London for two days. Excited to go, sad to leave, Nicole watched as her train left the station. Meal for one in front of the fire, a glass of whiskey to wash it down, Nicole waited for Waverly to let her know she had arrived at the hotel. 

They chatted for over an hour. About everything. About nothing. Like teenagers. Waverly had started researching which hotel they would use in Paris, preferring somewhere cosy and discreet. She wanted to take Nicole to the restaurant where she had eaten on the last night of her tour. Nicole would have been happy with a few snacks in the bedroom, so long as she was with Waverly. And, perhaps cake, so long as they didn’t get crumbs in the bed. 

Turning in just before 11pm, Nicole picked up Waverly’s tenth novel, the last one she had to read. She must have dozed off half-way through, the sound of an alarm waking her. Assuming it was a car parked outside, she turned over, pulling the book from under her, placing it on Waverly’s side of the bed. The alarm continued. She listened. 

That wasn’t a car alarm.

Her body moved before her brain had had a chance to get into gear, rushing to dress, searching for her other trainer, her heart racing. She ran along the hallway, opening the door of the flat, the smell of burning books hitting her nostrils. Acrid, making her cough. The alarm was louder now. Her mind in panic mode, not thinking through what she needed to do. Her phone. She had left her phone in the bedroom. Too late. She needed to get out. The fire escape on the first floor. 

Her best option. 

She prayed the smoke hadn’t reached that level. She moved down the stairs, fearful of what she would see. She got to the next floor, smoke and flames on the ground floor, mostly by the entrance. She had a chance. The fire escape door behind her. She broke the seal, the fresh air filling her lungs, allowing her to breathe. She made it out onto the metal staircase ready to descend.

Something stopped her. Her legs wanted to run as fast as they could. Her heart pulled her to Waverly’s chair. She had to save it. Looking into the bookstore, she took one deep breath, lowering her head, feeling her way along the shelves. She reached the chair, attempting to lift it, realising how heavy it was. Her best bet was to drag it. It moved slower than she hoped. Every step became laboured, every breath hurt. 

She managed to get the chair to the fire escape just as a fireman entered.


	25. That heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole's heart dances to a new rhythm...

The fireman carried her out to the waiting ambulance. Her words to him were garbled. Something about a chair, she needed to save a chair. Not his priority. His job was firefighting, not furniture removal. Suffering from smoke inhalation she was on her way once more to the Accident & Emergency department. Transferred to a hospital bed, alone in a small room, an oxygen mask over her mouth to assist breathing. 

She wanted to cry. Her whole life, their whole life up in smoke. Destroyed. Everything that was good in her life ripped away. The only consolation, she was alive. Waverly was alive. That chair. She needed to get Waverly’s chair. Her legs gave way, falling to the floor in a crumpled heap, the tube connecting the oxygen mask ripped away in the process.

It was Rosita who had called the Emergency Services. On her way home from a new job at the nightclub in the next town she passed the bookstore shortly after 2am. She thought the lights had been left on only realising when she got nearer it was flames. She waited until the fire service arrived, explaining there could be at least two people on the top floor, leaving several texts and voicemails for Robin to let him know what was happening. He eventually responded, assuming she was prank calling him.

He shot out of bed waking Jeremy, telling him the bookstore was on fire. They raced to the scene just in time to see Nicole being carried out. Robin went with her in the ambulance, Nicole repeatedly telling him she went back for that chair. He told her he would phone Waverly.

Her phone went to voicemail. He rang again. No reply. He knew she was staying at The Montague. He called the hotel. The receptionist on duty that night rang her room. Robin was put through.

“Hi, Waverly. Look, I’m really sorry to ring you, and please don’t panic, but there’s been a fire at the bookstore.”

“Where’s Nicole? Is she OK? Tell me she’s OK.”

“She’s alive. She’s in the hospital. I’m here with her. Listen, we’re all OK. Just thought you should know.”

“I’m coming home. I’ll get a cab if I have to. Can you tell her I’m on my way?”

“No. Waverly you don’t have…”

The line went dead. Robin tried her mobile again. No answer. No reply to his texts.

Waverly was on her way to Nicole. No one was going to talk her out of it.

Nicole was sleeping when she entered. Robin was in the chair beside her bed, Jeremy had gone home. Seeing her lying in a hospital bed again, her breathing laboured, sooty marks over her face, broke her heart. She knew in that instant her life needed to change.

She placed her hand on Robin’s shoulder to let him know she was there. He stirred, opening his eyes, looking around, checking to see Nicole was comfortable.

“Hi, sorry. Must have dozed off. You got here quick.”

“How is she? What happened?”

“She’s OK. Utterly stupid what she did. I know she loves you, but seriously.”

“Did what? What did she do? Robin, what did she do?”

“She went back in to rescue your chair. I mean she risked her life for a stupid chair.”

Waverly broke down. She knew why Nicole would have wanted to save that chair. It was where they had met. It was where they had become friends. It was where she had written her novel about her. It was where they had danced. It was where Nicole had written her love letter.

Robin held her in his arms. “She’s so in love with you she went back into a burning building for a fucking chair.”

They hugged. They cried. No more words needed. Nicole stirred, mumbling something about having to get back to open the store. Waverly brushed Nicole’s hair off her face, placing a kiss on her forehead to let her know she was with her.

Nicole opened her eyes, unable to speak with the mask.

“Hello you. I leave you alone for five minutes and look what happens.”

She pulled the mask away. “Didn’t bang my head. My lungs hurt.”

“Rest. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

A doctor entered the room. “I’m Dr Stevens. I understand you were brought in for smoke inhalation. How are you feeling?”

“I’m OK. I think I can go home now.”

“I’ve checked your notes. We need to keep you in for a little while longer.”

“No, I’m fine. I just need to get out of here. Not great with hospitals.”

“We’ve detected a problem with your heart. Do you faint easily?”

Nicole looked at Waverly, then Robin. “I’ve had a few episodes. Mostly stress related. It’s fine.”

“The tests show you have an irregular heartbeat. That would explain the fainting. Have they been more frequent?”

“I’m fine. I can cope.”

“Your notes say you were brought in for a head wound following a fall. Was that as a result of losing consciousness?”

“No. OK, yes. I passed out because of something that happened. I’m used to it.”

“I believe we can treat your condition. It would mean resetting the rhythm of your heart. The parameters of success are good for someone your age. I would strongly recommend you consider this procedure.”

“I’m not having my heart reset. No. Categorically no. I need to get out of here. Right now.”

Nicole went to get up, the room spinning, the light fading.

Waverly had taken over from Robin. She sat in the chair beside Nicole’s bed holding her hand, feeling her soft skin against hers, a finger tracing her veins. A pathway leading her home. She knew Nicole had a problem with her heart. Her writer’s mind could indulge her by believing Nicole was too in love. Too infatuated. All was true. She knew Nicole adored her. But, there was a medical condition underlying any romantic explanation. 

Nicole’s heart danced to a different beat.

She felt Nicole’s hand move. Releasing it, Nicole removed the oxygen mask. “I’m not staying. I don’t want to die. Not here.”

Waverly leant over, whispering in her ear. “Whatever you decide I’ll be here for you.”

“I’m scared. I’m really scared. What if it doesn’t work? What if…”

“Shush. It’s OK. I know you’re scared. We’ll get through this. You and me. Rest.”

Nicole closed her eyes, a trickle of tears escaping down her face. Waverly wiped them away, placing a kiss on her forehead. They were in this together.

The doctor returned early afternoon. “Have you thought further about our conversation?”

Nicole nodded, looking at Waverly. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Perfectly. It’s a standard procedure. It will address your syncope, your loss of consciousness.”

“If you’re sure this is needed. I’ll do it.”

“We will need next of kin details and your signature on the permission form. If your partner could provide her details.”

Nicole looked at Waverly, then the doctor. “I can provide my wife’s details.”

“My apologies. If your wife could fill in her details on the form.”

“This isn’t my wife.”

“I understand. My apologies again.”

He handed the form to Nicole to complete, leaving her alone with Waverly. Waverly sat, watching her write Shae’s details, placing the clipboard with the completed form on the bedside cabinet.

“This is unfair on you. I’ll make it right. I promise.”

“It doesn’t matter. Well, it does matter, but not right now. We have other things to deal with. I know you’ll do the right thing.”

“Shae’s agreed. I’ve given her our flat for a quick settlement.”

“What is it with us giving away our properties.”

“If it means I get to be with you for the rest of my life, I’d give her whatever she asks. None of it matters without you.”

“And, you were worried about writing me a love letter. You’re a walking love letter.”

“I’m a flat on her back love letter.”

“Even better. I wish I could curl up with you.”

“Better not. I have a weak heart. The excitement might do me in.”

“Stop it. I’m not letting you ever use that excuse. You have a strong heart that beats to a different tune that’s all.”

Waverly stayed with her right up until the moment she was taken for the procedure to be performed. Wynonna popped in to give support, telling Nicole she had been renamed 'kipper,' as in smoked herring, given her red hair and what she had been through. Waverly told her sister off, but Nicole quite liked her new nickname. It made her feel part of the Earp family, one of their gang. Accepted.

Waverly was there when she returned. Her hand never left Nicole’s, watching, waiting, hoping all would be OK. Coming out of sedation she had a smile on her face. “I made it. I’m still alive. Thank fuck for that.”

“Hello you. How do you feel?”

“Alive.”

“That’s a good start.”

“And, hungry.”

“I can get you something. There’s a canteen on the second floor.”

“For you.”

“Nicole! You have just had your heart reset and that’s the first thought on your mind. Honestly.”

“It’s true. And, cake.”

“God, I love you. Stay here, I’ll see what I can buy.”

“Really not going anywhere.”

She watched Waverly leave the room, knowing they had a future together. It no longer mattered whether the bookstore was destroyed, she had everything she needed right here with her. The doctor entered, a smile on his face.

“Glad to see you’re awake. The procedure was a complete success. Extremely fortunate you were admitted and we picked up your underlying condition. You are a very lucky lady, I can tell you.”

“I know. Very lucky. Very lucky indeed.”

The damage to the ground floor of the bookstore was significant. Rosita’s call had spared the building from being condemned, the fire service arriving in time to save it and Nicole. Even the chair was saved, the fireman moving it to gain access to Nicole. That chair. The sprinklers in the store had activated helping to bring the fire under control, but it meant most of the books on the ground floor were ruined. The upper floor was largely intact, the flat untouched thankfully.

Despite her faults, Rosita’s heart was in the right place. The thought of the bookstore not existing, the thought of Waverly and, or Nicole being trapped in the store overriding any thought of revenge. Robin told Nicole what Rosita had done. She called her, thanked her, wished her well in her new job, said they would meet up when things got back to normal.

With nowhere to stay, Wynonna welcomed them to her home. In fairness, she could not refuse. Waverly had bought the house for her when Doc announced he would be starting a new job at the hospital where Nicole was being treated. Doc was able to explain to Nicole her condition in more detail, reassuring the couple this was perfectly normal. 

Alice was beside herself when she was told Auntie Nicole would be staying. She lined up all her favourite books on her bed in readiness. Her own bookstore she told her mother. Auntie Nicole was coming to buy books at her store and she would read the book Auntie Nicole chose. Wynonna had to leave the room, tears in her eyes, knowing how much Nicole had done for this little girl. 

Nicole indulged Alice. She selected the one book she knew was Alice's favourite, giving her a few chocolate coins in payment, sitting on the bed helping Alice with the odd word she had difficulty pronouncing. Waverly watched from the door, in love with this beautiful soul whose heart was beating to a new rhythm.


	26. That claim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As one door closes...

They stood outside the bookstore. What lay before them in ruins. Blackened entrance, shattered glass, burnt books forsaken on the pavement. Books no one would get to read. Boarded up windows the most pitiful sight. The ground floor had been reduced to a charred shell. The fire service had made the building safe, permitting them to collect any salvageable belongings. Doc hired a van, waiting in the driver’s seat with Alice. Waverly was already crying, so was Robin. 

Wynonna put an arm round Nicole. “We do this. We go in. We get what we came for. Together.”

“Thank you. Don’t know if I could have done this on my own.”

“You’re not on your own. You have us crazy people to help. This isn’t the end.”

“It feels something is over. No, we go forward.”

“Too right, kipper, we go forward.”

Waverly glared at her sister. “I wish you wouldn’t call her that. It’s very rude.”

“I quite like it,” Nicole offered.

“Fine. But, I’m not calling you it. Robin, if I ever hear you calling Nicole by that name.”

“I promise never to call Nicole kipper. I will never mention the name kipper when referring to Nicole. Kipper will not…”

“OK. OK. Very funny.”

They entered the store. An eerie silence greeted them along with the stench of burnt paper. Books strewn everywhere, the pulpit barely recognisable, the metal chimney of the wood burner twisted, hanging to one side. Making their way to the first floor, they found Waverly’s chair on the fire escape. Nicole smiled. An old friend. It nearly cost her life, yet she was glad to see it again. Glad to have moved it out of reach of the fire. 

The door to the flat was open. They entered, the lingering smell of smoke hitting their nostrils. It hung in the air like an unwelcome fart making Nicole cough.

“You OK?” Waverly asked. “Sit down if this gets too much.”

“I’m fine. Let’s box up, get everything to the van?”

“I’m not sure how much we can save. It might be too damaged by the smoke.”

“Take what we can. I could do with a new set of clothes anyway.”

They entered the bedroom. The first room to be cleared. Nicole found her phone and Waverly’s book. A reminder of the last moments before her world became too hot to handle. The bedroom stripped, they moved through the rest of the flat, working out what to take, what to leave behind. 

It took several hours. Doc entertained Alice with an ice cream and a walk in the park. He returned to find most of the boxes in the van ready to be taken to the storage unit Nicole had rented. They decided to leave the furniture. The only piece going with them was that chair. Doc carried it downstairs wondering how Nicole had managed to drag it through a smoked-filled store.

One last look at their home, Nicole closed the door on that part of her life, one she and Waverly had only recently begun sharing, not knowing when, if, they would be back. Waverly was crying again, her writer’s heart knowing this would end up in one of her stories. 

Robin decided to start his PhD. He had been putting it off, Jeremy telling him to use his time productively while the store was closed. Nicole would continue to pay him for as long as she could. Mavis was in tears when she heard the news. Ever the optimist, she promised to run the café when the bookstore re-opened. Nicole hugged her, hoping that would be a reality. The two newest members of staff were paid off. Just as upset, offering to come in for free to help with the clearing up. Nicole choked back tears, knowing people cared about the bookstore.

A massive outpouring of support came from the community. A fund was started by devoted customers, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram pages created to garner support. The town wanted their beloved store back. It was the heart of their community, determined to reset it, just like Nicole’s.

Gus was stoic. Still in Monaco with Nicole’s mother, she was thankful no one was hurt, offering to come over and help with the insurance claim. Nicole’s mother suggested they stay with her for a few weeks, get a suntan. Nicole thanked her for the offer, saying they would do so once they knew where they were going with the bookstore.

The police had been in contact. A team assigned to investigate the circumstances of the fire. Nicole would need to give a statement. They had spoken to Rosita and another local who happened to be on his way home from a business trip. 

Nicole’s phone rang. “This is Detective Dolls. I understand you are the owner of the bookstore. I’d like to come and take a statement from you today if possible.”

“I’m out at the moment. What time?”

“Say 2pm. Is that convenient?”

Wynonna opened the door. Two detectives stood waiting to be invited in, Wynonna unable to take her eyes off the tallest.

“Detective Dolls.”

“I’m Wynonna. You can call me Wynonna.”

“We have this address for a Nicole Haught. Is she here?”

“Upstairs. I’m Wynonna.”

“Hello Wynonna. May we come in?”

“What did you say your name was?”

“Dolls. Xavier Dolls. I’m here about the fire at the bookstore.”

“Xavier. Love the name.”

Wynonna led them into the lounge, standing gazing at Xavier Dolls.

“Could you let Nicole Haught know we’re here.”

Wynonna rushed upstairs, flinging open the door, knowing she was under strict instructions to knock before entering. Thankfully both were reading, looking up from their respective books, wondering what had set Wynonna on fire.

“Gorgeous man in the lounge waiting for you,” she shouted. “When I say gorgeous, I mean gorgeous.”

Nicole and Waverly looked at each other wondering if she had started on the gin. They entered the lounge spying said gorgeous man, the detective holding out his hand. “Detective Dolls. This is my assistant, he’ll be taking notes.”

Nicole recounted the events of the night. How she had checked the wood burner before going upstairs, the fire alarm waking her, flames towards the front of the store some distance from the wood burner. 

“That would fit with what our team found. It appears the fire started near the entrance. It would also appear an accelerant was used. 

“An accelerant?” Nicole repeated.

“We found evidence of petrol. We also found glass from one of the windows inside the store.”

“Inside the store?”

“If the window had shattered due to heat, the glass would be outside not inside.”

“Right. Accelerant and glass inside the store. Are you suggesting this might be arson?”

“Arson, or an insurance job. I’ve ruled out the latter because of events and witness statements.”

“So, it was arson.”

“The evidence points that way. Can you think of anyone who might want to do this? Anyone who might hold a grudge against either of you?”

Nicole was about to mention Aaron Hardy. “I’m not sure,” Waverly interrupted. “I don’t think so.”

Nicole stared at Waverly, wondering why she hadn’t offered his name as a suspect. Dolls stood, retrieving a card from his pocket, holding it out. “If you do think of anything else that might assist our investigation give me a call.”

Nicole saw them to the door, returning to the lounge, looking at Waverly. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I am, but I have to be sure before I drag him into this. I’m not protecting him. Just don’t want him involved unless it really is him.”

“It has to be him. The threats. Showing up in London. It would be easy enough for him to trace us to here. Who else would do this?”

“I don’t know. Nicole, I don’t know. If it is him, then he’s won. He’s crushed what we have. That’s what I don’t want to believe. He can’t win. Not like this.”

“He hasn’t. We’ll get to the bottom of it. He hasn’t won, even if it was him. This is a setback that’s all. The rollercoaster going backwards.”

“Rollercoaster? What’s that got to do with the bookstore?”

“Nothing, and everything.”

Life settled into a comfortable rhythm in the house. Wynonna and Waverly occasionally locked horns as sisters do. Doc and Nicole formed a friendship, their personalities calmer, allowing those with more fiery temperaments their space. Alice smiled all the time, knowing she had an attentive audience whatever she was doing, especially when it came to her night time routine. 

Bath, bed, book. Either Auntie Waverly or Auntie Nicole would read her one story, usually ending up being three. She was very persuasive. Tucked up in bed, stories read, she would wait until she heard the door to their room open, knowing one of them was in the bedroom. She would creep out, knock on their door, wait patiently outside with a book in her hand hoping to hear one more story. Nicole found her asleep one night on the landing, thumb in mouth, favourite doll in her arms, book resting under her head.

Adorable.

“Is this what it’s like having kids?” Nicole asked.

“Pretty much. I think you’ve got the added benefit of adoration.” Waverly replied. “Wynonna can’t believe how far she’s come on with her reading.”

“I didn’t know Wynonna had a problem with reading.”

Waverly giggled. “No, Wynonna…OK, I’m not even going to explain. You know exactly what I mean.”

“What are you reading?”

“Nikita Gill’s Fierce Fairytales. Listen to this. Await no princes to save you, through their lips touching yours, whilst you are in unwilling slumber. Wake each other up instead.”

“Interesting. Haven’t read her work.”

“Tell me what you would put in your next love letter.”

“OK. I’d write I had a broken heart and you mended it. Well, technically the doctors mended it. But, you were there. Although, not technically there in the procedure…”

“God, I love you. Shut up and kiss me.”

The insurance company handling the claim was in the next town. Waverly drove them to their appointment, Nicole sitting quietly staring out the window, watching the world go by. A woman in reception announced their arrival while filing her nails, waiting for the call to send Nicole and Waverly up to the third floor. The company was run by an old friend of Nicole’s father. George Wright. 

His slogan: You have a problem, we make it Wright. 

He welcomed them into his office, asking his assistant to bring them drinks. In George’s books that meant gin & tonic. A tray placed before them, he poured a generous helping of gin into each glass topped up with a splash of tonic, handing one to Waverly, then Nicole, raising his own. “To your father. Such a good man. How is your mother?”

“Monaco. Topping up her sun tan. She sends her regards. And Gus.”

“Must visit. I remember her parties.”

“Where are we with the claim?” Nicole asked.

“The claim. Yes, I’ve read the police report. Nasty business. Suspected arson. Doesn’t affect your claim. I can see this being resolved in good time.”

“Great. In resolved you mean full settlement.”

“Yes. Although, there will need to be new safety measures and a separate fire escape installed for the flat should you choose to return.”

“Right. And, that’s all covered under the policy.”

“I’m afraid not. The cover your aunt took out didn’t include these.”

“Are you saying I need to have these costed into the restoration.”

“I’ve already obtained quotes for you should you wish to proceed.”

George slid a sheet of paper across the desk. Nicole and Waverly looked at the total at the bottom.

£1,407,950.

Waverly was thankful Nicole had had the heart procedure. They stared at each other, then George.

“This is…” Nicole stuttered. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

“I truly wish there was something I could do. I’ve fast-tracked the claim payment. If there was anything more available I would offer it, for your father.”

“I understand,” Nicole replied. “Thank you.”

The journey back to Wynonna’s was quiet. Neither knowing what to say. 

Neither knowing where to go from here.


	27. That money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly makes Nicole an offer...

Wynonna was fixing herself another drink as they entered the kitchen. “How was the meeting?”

“Fine,” Nicole replied. “Just need money for extras.”

“So, successful?”

“Yes, and no. You don’t happen to have a spare million pounds?”

“Fuck. Didn’t think books cost that much.”

“Really not helping,” Waverly snapped.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll need to discuss with Gus and my mother.”

“We’re here for you.”

“Thank you. I know you are.”

Nicole went upstairs, leaving the sisters alone. Waverly waited until she was sure Nicole was out of earshot. “I can give her the money.”

“You can. And, it would be an extremely generous offer.”

“But…”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why? I love that bookstore. This is for both of us.”

“Waverly. Waverly. Waverly. Relationships are a dance. It takes both of you to strut your funky stuff. If you do this, she’ll have nothing to strut her funky stuff for.”

“You’re wrong. Nicole will be over the moon when she knows she has the money.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Waverly followed Nicole upstairs. She found her on the bed staring at her phone, lost in her thoughts. 

“You OK?”

“I think I’ll have to give up the bookstore.”

“Aren’t you going to call your mother?”

“No. You haven’t met her.”

“What about Gus? She’ll help.”

“I don’t want this on Gus. She’s done more than enough for me.”

“What if there were a way to get the money without Gus or your mother being involved?”

“A bank loan?”

“Kind of. A family bank.”

“I’m with Adam & Co. I could approach them I guess.”

“What if I gave you the money?”

Nicole sat contemplating Waverly’s offer. “You actually have £1.4 million?”

“I have more than £1.4 million. It’s yours. Whatever you need to make the bookstore a success.”

“I don’t know what to say?”

“Yes would be a good start.”

“I mean it’s amazing you have that kind of money.”

“I’m giving it to you. No strings attached.”

“I know. I know you are.”

“Wynonna said you’d say no.”

“You discussed this with Wynonna before talking to me.”

“No. I merely asked her if giving you the money was the right thing to do.”

“What did she say?”

“Something about letting you strut your funky stuff. Which, I’m guessing means you need to do this.”

“So why did you offer me the money?”

“Nicole, I’m doing you a favour. Take it or leave it.”

“Can I leave it, if that’s OK.”

“I don’t understand. I have the money. You need the money. What’s the problem?”

“It’s my problem. Not yours.”

“You’re saying I don’t count in this relationship?”

“No. I didn’t say that. You’re putting words that are not in my mouth into my mouth for me to say.”

“But, if you loved me you'd let me help you.”

“I do love you. That's the whole point. You don't need to buy my love.”

Waverly glared at Nicole. Nicole glared back. The tension mounting. Nicole grabbed her coat from the chair.

“So, you’re just going to walk away from this discussion.”

“No, I’m going to sit in my car, with the heating on, trying to figure out where I am in all this.”

“You might want to take a scarf? It’s really cold.”

“I really don’t need you to mother me.”

“Fine, freeze to death. For all I care.”

“Oh, but you do care.”

“That’s it. You don’t get to walk out of here. I do.”

“No. I do. It’s your home. Remember.”

“Is that your beef? I have money and you don’t.”

“No. OK, yes. Waves, I can’t take your money. It wouldn’t be fair on you.”

“Let me help you, please. This is nuts. Aaron took everything and you won’t take anything.”

“Precisely. And, while we’re on the subject, why are you protecting him?”

“I’m not,” Waverly shouted. “That’s it. Get out. Now.”

“Nowhere to go, but my car, since your ex burnt down my place.”

Waverly picked up a book on the bed, aiming it squarely at Nicole’s head. She ducked, the book ricocheting off the wall, landing at her feet. She picked it up, placed it on the small table just inside the door, glancing back.

Wynonna heard the front door close. She waited for Waverly to come to her, knowing she needed time to cool down. Waverly found her in the lounge attempting to order new curtains for Alice’s room.

She sat, resting her head on Wynonna’s shoulder. “I love her so much it hurts.”

“Yoda says good direct approach not.”

“Can you please tell me how I make this right? She’s walked out on me.”

“Really? Your girlfriend is outside in the car listening to music. She’s not going anywhere. Probably draining the battery as we speak, so definitely not going anywhere.”

“She doesn’t want the money. You were OK with me buying this house for you. Aaron made me buy the flat. I don’t get it.”

“I’m lazy and Aaron’s selfish. Plus, I know you wouldn’t use it against me. Nicole’s trying to figure out who you are.”

“You think she doesn’t trust me?”

“Put yourself in Nicole’s shoes. The one thing she has to offer you is her bookstore. If you give her the money it’s no longer hers.”

“But, it is hers.”

“Worst case scenario. You split up. Where would that leave her? Owing you a lot of money.”

“It’s a gift. I wouldn’t want the money back.”

“Baby girl, it doesn’t work like that. She’s already freaked out by Alice Makepeace. You have to let her be able to give you something.”

“Why is this so hard?”

“I have an idea. I can suggest Milo’s services to Nicole as a potential investor in the business. You give Milo the money. Milo invests it in the bookstore. It’s how I would have played this from the start.”

“Lie to her? No. Either she takes the money from me, or not. I’m not playing games.”

“Your choice. It would mean leaving her without her beloved bookstore because she’s too proud to take your money. Actually, it’s not pride, she’s scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of not being good enough for you. Donut. Honestly, can’t you see? She adores you. Who you are, what you’re capable of. She’s not fighting you. She’s fighting herself. You need to make her feel important in this relationship.”

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Now I get it. Wynonna. How did you end up with all the brains?”

“I know. Fate I guess. Go. Sit in that stupid car of hers. She probably needs defrosting by now.”

Waverly tapped on the car window. “Can I join you?”

Nicole opened the door, watching as Waverly got in. They sat shivering, the music on full blast. 

“This music is awful.”

“It’s not awful. It’s my taste.”

Waverly stared out the front window. “I want you in my life. With or without the bookstore.”

Nicole leant across, capturing Waverly’s lips, a move she wasn’t expecting. They didn’t wait for summer. The back seat of Nicole’s car in winter was just fine for making up. Thankfully, the tall bushes in front of the house meant it was sufficiently concealed from public gaze for no one to know what they were doing. 

Wynonna ordered a take away for dinner. The family sat helping themselves to Chinese, Alice busily playing with her fish fingers and peas. Wynonna retrieved another bottle of wine from the kitchen.

“I know someone who might be interested in the bookstore. I can give him your details if you like.”

“It’s OK, thank you,” Nicole replied. “I need to talk to a few people first.”

“No harm in talking to Milo. He’s an angel investor. Always looking for interesting projects.”

“Thanks. Can you leave it with me. I need to think this through.”

Waverly gave Wynonna a look to say not to pursue it further. Nicole clearly had a problem accepting other people’s help and money. She needed to work out what she wanted to do. In her own time. In her own way.

Nicole sat in bed reading long into the night. It was her way of switching off from the problems of the world for a few hours. No further discussion. Waverly wanted to talk about their future, knowing she couldn’t push Nicole to do anything until she was ready. She had learnt that from studying her for the novel. Nicole did things at a slower pace than Waverly would have liked. She got there eventually. 

Morning came. Nicole had finally fallen asleep, book in hand. She woke as Waverly attempted to extract herself from the bed without disturbing her. “I’m sorry about what I said. It was cruel. Your offer came from the heart and I should have realised.”

“Apology accepted. I’m sorry I missed you with the book.”

“I may have to take your money.”

“It was wrong of me to offer. I have every confidence you’ll sort this out on your own.”

“So I can’t have your money?”

“I understand why you don’t want to take it. I get it. I’m sure there are plenty of other ways to finance the refurbishments.”

“Do you know this Milo?”

“Met him once. Very wealthy.”

“Would it be worth me speaking to him?”

“I guess. No harm in talking. Nothing ventured, as they say.”

“Right. No harm.”

Nicole asked Wynonna to make contact with Milo. Wynonna said she would get him to call, hopefully with a view to setting up a meeting. Her phone rang later that day.

“This is Detective Dolls. We may have a lead on the case.” 

“Who?”

“I can’t reveal the name. All I can say is one of witnesses we interviewed saw a car driving away at speed. We managed to capture its details on CCTV.”

“What happens now?”

“I’m in London about to interview the suspect. We’ll see what comes out of that.”

Waverly had found a new place to write. A coffee shop in the next town. The house was too distracting for her to focus on the new story idea she had in mind. Her first thriller. Her phone flashed with a message. She huffed, knowing she had given everyone strict instructions not to disturb her unless it was an emergency.

Aaron: Sorry to hear about the bookstore.

She read the text. Was he gloating? Her pencil snapped as she pressed it into the paper. She wanted to call him, scream at him. She knew better than to be pulled into yet another sick mind game of his. She put her phone down, staring out the window, wondering how her life had come to this.

Aaron: How is your girlfriend?

He knew. The bastard knew. He never asked about her. He must have known Nicole was in the store by herself that night. Only Nicole. It had to be him. 

Aaron: In India filming. Very hot here.

She called Nicole. “It’s him. I know it’s him. He’s just sent me three messages bragging.”

“Slow down. The police have a suspect. They wouldn’t say who.”

“He’s in India.”

“But, they’re about to interview the person in London. Something doesn’t add up.”


	28. That Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole proposes a toast...

Milo suggested they meet outside the bookstore. His car pulled up, the driver opening the door allowing him to step out still talking on his phone. He smiled at Nicole, who watched the whole performance wondering if he was simply another colourful friend of Wynonna’s with no real interest in the business. 

Call finished, Mile offered his hand. “Very good to meet you. Is this the bookstore?”

“Yes. Or was.”

“Such a shame what happened. Wynonna filled me in. I must say, location-wise this is something else. And, a church. How long has your family run this as a business?”

“Thirty four years. It was my aunt’s. She handed it to me when she retired. You’ve seen all the accounts?”

“I have. You clearly moved the business forward. This would fit my portfolio. Young owner looking to maintain the heart of a community. Towns are crying out for places like yours.”

“So, you’d consider investing?”

“I need to work some numbers. But, I think it could be a possibility. Retail is moving back towards experiential environments. Bespoke venues. That’s my thing. I’m glad Wynonna called me.”

“Right. What happens next?”

“I’ll speak to my co-investors. Work out what’s feasible in terms of the level of investment we’re prepared to put forward.”

“So, not all the money.”

“Au contraire. I reckon if we injected a little more than you need, this place could have legs.”

“Right. Legs. Sorry, what does that mean?”

“It means this place could do a lot more than it’s already doing. Leave it with me. I’ll send you our proposal in a few days. Really good to meet you Nicole. I’m sorry, I have to be in Munich by nightfall.”

Nicole watched as his car disappeared, wondering if she should do a dance in the road, or wait till she got back to Wynonna’s.

Waverly was in the lounge helping Alice with her sums. “How did it go?”

“OK, I think. He’s interested. We’ll see.”

She entered the bedroom, laying her coat on the chair, sitting on the bed, picking up her phone. The number dialled.

“Hello my favourite niece. How did it go?”

“As expected.”

“Look, if this is how Waverly wants to do this, let her. You know I’d give you the money in a heartbeat.”

“I know. I don’t want Waverly to feel she has to do this. But, if she’s going to all these lengths to finance the refurbishment. I want her to feel part of the bookstore as much as I do.”

“Is everything finalised with Shae?”

“Yes. I have the divorce papers. I know what I need to do. Thank you for everything.”

“My darling. You are the most precious thing in my life. I’m counting on that invite.”

Waverly entered the bedroom. “So, spill. How did it really go?”

“I’m confident Milo will invest in the bookstore. He needs to discuss it with his other investors. But, I think we have this.”

Waverly grabbed Nicole’s hand, pulling her off the bed into her body. “Is this what you want?”

“It is. I want you. I want us to have something to work towards. I’d give it up in a heartbeat if you wanted something else.”

“No. I want this. Nicole. What I said, I want you in my life with, or without the bookstore. But, the bookstore can’t die like this. I want to resurrect it, just to stick two fingers up at the bastard who did this.”

Aaron Hardy got off a plane from India and was promptly arrested.

The suspect Detective Dolls interviewed had, in catering terms, spilled the beans. He was a junior chef in Hardy’s kitchen. A drug user, debts mounting. Aaron had taken him under his wing, looking for someone to do his dirty work. A drug pick up, no problem. A tin of paint thrown at the window of a rival restaurant, no problem. A torching of an ex-girlfriend’s place. A problem. Aaron had given him no choice. Either torch the place, or he’d be done for drug dealing.

Too naïve to know he had a choice with someone like Aaron Hardy, he drove from London that night, stopping to fill a canister with petrol. His movements logged, retrieved by the team investigating the crime.

Parked close to the bookstore, he scanned the area. At that time of night, in such a small town, there were no other eyes to see what he was about to do. A hammer in his gloved hand, he smashed the window, making a large enough hole to be able to pour the contents of his canister over the display of books. He took out his lighter, one his mother had given him with his initials, holding it briefly in his hand, knowing his next act would be criminal.

The whoosh as the petrol ignited made him jump back, dropping the lighter. He was lucky not to have been caught in the flames as they sucked on the night air. He stood watching his handy work, wondering how Hardy had managed to turn him into an arsonist.

In his interview with Dolls he had revealed all. Hardy had arrogantly assumed his involvement would never be traced back to him. He had made sure to only communicate with his accomplice verbally. No traces. Except. The junior chef had phoned him from the petrol station, his card declined, asking Hardy if he could make the payment. 

The couple needed a break. With everything that had happened their trip to Paris would be a welcome escape. Bags packed, money, tickets and passports at the ready, Wynonna drove them to the station. They were catching the Eurostar later that day. A long weekend, just the two of them.

Waverly found the ideal hotel. Maison Souquet in fashionable South Pigalle, at the foot of Montmartre. Sumptuous, the ultimate lovers’ address, according to one review. Where a certain Madame Souquet once ran a posh bordello, red lanterns in the entrance a nod to its risqué past. They arrived in Paris early evening, in time to take in the city’s nightlife. A cosy meal in the hotel, a stroll around the area, one nightcap in the bar. Perfection. 

Waverly had splashed out, booking the Belle Otero suite. A large, luxurious room decorated in shimmering textiles from the Far East. Romantic in a way only Parisians know how. Nicole was blown away, realising she was being treated to something very special. They had agreed Waverly would pay for the hotel, Nicole would pay for everything else. 

They slept in the next morning, breakfast served to their room. A leisurely hour spent in the hotel’s spa, just themselves. Waverly wanted them to try the restaurant she had dined at with Jessica and her friends. 

Their lunch was perfect. 

They took a stroll around the Sacré-Cœur area close to their hotel late afternoon. Walking hand in hand along cobbled alleys admiring the artists’ drawings of tourists. One approached asking if they would like their portraits drawn. Waverly suggested Nicole have hers done first. They giggled at the thought of being like other tourists. She sat patiently as her beautiful features were replicated on paper. Waverly looked on, nodding admiringly as the drawing neared completion.

Waverly took her seat, the artist working quickly, his fine pencil work capturing her natural beauty. Once finished, he handed Nicole the drawing. Waverly rushed over to see what she looked like in pencil form. “So, that’s what I look like.”

“Pretty good,” Nicole jested. “Much better than mine. We can put these up in the store.”

“Oh, God no. Too embarrassing. Perhaps in our bedroom.”

The artist rolled the two drawings, an elastic band stopping them from springing open. Entwined together. They continued their walk along streets scattered with souvenir shops. Turning a corner, Nicole spotted a woman perched on a small stool selling charms from a case. Nicole guided Waverly over, the couple scanning the case, Nicole searching for a new charm for Waverly’s bracelet. She spotted the Eiffel Tower offering to buy it for Waverly. 

The evening was drawing in, a chill in the air. Time to find somewhere warm. Nicole suggested they stop at Maison Rose café for an aperitif. Very French. Too cold to sit outside, they claimed a table by the window to watch the evening go by. A man entered, young, well-dressed, carrying a package wrapped in brown paper. He looked around, his eyes falling on Waverly.

Approaching their table, he placed the package in her hands, whispering in her ear. “This is for you.”

Turning on his heels, he was gone, leaving Waverly holding the package, Nicole looking utterly confused. A label on the front read: to the most beautiful woman in Paris.

Waverly looked at the package, then at Nicole. “What the…”

“Were you expecting a delivery?” Nicole asked.

“Yes. Of course. In the middle of Paris. Seriously, what the absolute…”

“Do you want me to open it?”

“No. It’s addressed to me.”

Waverly slid her finger under the wrapping, pulling back the paper, revealing a book. The title: A Charmed Life by N. Haught.

Waverly looked at the book cover, then at Nicole. “I don't understand.”

“Look inside.”

Waverly opened the book. There was a small piece of paper, folded, marking a page. Waverly lifted it out, reading the words:

Here’s to a charmed life together…

Nicole moved a small box across the table. “It’s not what you think it is? But, I’m hoping it is what you think it is.”

“Oh, my God. Here?”

Waverly opened the box. Two small charms lay in the bottom. A church and a ring.

She realised what was happening. A waiter approached, a bottle of champagne ready to pour. Waverly looked at his face. The artist, the woman standing beside him holding two glasses, the woman selling charms. 

“These are everything I have to give you. I’m hoping if I ask...”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“So, that’s a yes?”

“It’s a yes.”

Emotions flowed as freely as the champagne.


	29. That Quentin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bookstore reopens...

Waverly gazed at the cover of the book in her hand. “Did you really write this?”

“If only I could. That’s your talent. It’s a keepsake.”

“So thoughtful. And, so you. Thank you.”

“I was hoping you’d enjoy this more than one knee under the Eiffel Tower.”

“Definitely. Although…”

“I can do that. We can go now if it would make you happy.”

“Nicole. I’m teasing. This is perfect. I’m still in shock.”

“There’s one more thing to show you. Look at your drawing.”

Waverly unrolled her portrait, seeing for the first time the three new charms added to her bracelet. “Oh, my God. That’s really, really cool. I’m never going to be able to top this.”

“You don’t have to. I got as much out of planning this for you.”

“No. I need to do something.”

“I’ve ordered cake.”

“I was waiting for you to mention that.”

“So, you think you can read me like a book.”

“Yes. No, that’s a lie. There are parts of you that will forever remain a mystery and that’s how it should be. Speaking of mysteries, I really need to tell you something.”

“OK.”

“Promise you won’t be mad.”

“Promise I will consider not being mad.”

“Deep breath. I’m the one putting the money up for the bookstore.”

“Really?”

“You don’t seem surprised. Or mad for some reason. You knew. Did Wynonna tell you?”

“When you took back your offer and Wynonna mentioned Milo I had my suspicions.”

“So, how long were you going to keep quiet?”

“About the same length of time as you.”

“OK, I deserve that. How did you know?

“Checked Milo’s business. He invests in IT start-up companies in Europe.”

“Ah. Right. His story didn’t add up.”

“Really nice of him to have played along. And, thank you. I know you are doing this for us.”

“Is that why you proposed?”

“No. Well, yes. I wanted to propose in the hospital, but lost my nerve. And, was kind of still married.”

“Crap. I’d forgotten. Where are you with Shae?”

“Divorced. Finally. I’m not the quickest.”

“I don’t know. You were pretty quick last night.”

“Waverly Earp! So cheeky.”

“Shall we go back to the hotel? I want to see how quick you can be tonight.”

Wynonna was overjoyed when Waverly called to tell her the good news. She offered to host an engagement party at the house. Alice cried when she was told. She wanted to marry Nicole. Wynonna explained Auntie Waverly needed to marry Nicole and, if she was good, they might let her be a bridesmaid. Alice put her hands on her heart, promising to be the best behaved she had ever been. It lasted all of fifteen minutes. 

Nicole spoke with her mother, then Gus. Her mother said she would try to make the engagement party, but couldn’t promise. Her new husband wanted to spend a few months in the Maldives which might clash with dates. Gus could be heard in the background chastising Nicole’s mother. Gus said she would definitely be there and was looking forward to meeting Waverly’s family.

Work on the bookstore started. A lot of cleaning up, stripping back, preparations to make it better than before. The couple visited as often as they could, watching as the store’s heart slowly began beating once more. New layout, new lighting, new wood burner, new comfy chairs, new sprinkler system. It felt good to be doing this together. For their future. 

Waverly couldn’t help but get involved in some of the interior design aspects. Nicole stood back, admiring her excellent taste, knowing it was not her super power. Her super power was knowing she was loved by an amazing woman, who happened to have entered her life one rainy day. Taking up residence in her heart, sitting in that chair, writing that book in that bookstore.

Filming on Waverly’s fourth book was progressing. They were invited to the studios to watch scenes being shot that day. They had lunch with Brie Larson, Nicole unable to speak, gripping Waverly’s hand under the table. Waverly explained the journey they were on with the bookstore. Brie listened, completely fascinated by the whole saga. “Amazing. Will you write about it?”

“One day. There’s enough for several books. We’re nearing completion of the main works. Hopefully we’ll open mid-June.”

“Let me know the date. If I’m in the UK and not filming, I’d love to see the place.”

Nicole gripped Waverly’s hand even tighter. Brie Larson offering to attend the opening of their bookstore. Lunch over, a tour of the studios complete, they returned home. Nicole was still attempting to process the day as they entered the house.

“You OK?” Waverly asked. “You’ve been very quiet since you met Brie.”

“She’s coming to the bookstore. Brie Larson is coming to our bookstore.”

“Might be coming. No guarantees. Would be really cool if she did. Would you like me to check if Scarlett is free too?”

“Brie Larson.”

“Nicole. Focus. Brie Larson and, or Scarlett Johansson.”

“What? Both. No, I’d pass out if both came.”

“I thought the doctors fixed that problem.”

“Can you punch me? Or, physically assault me in some way, because I must be dreaming.”

“Have you had any more thoughts about the guest list?”

“Gus definitely. I’m not so sure inviting my mother is a good idea. She has a tendency to want to be the centre of attention.”

Waverly laughed. “With the celebrities I have in mind I think she may feel the spotlight is not on her.”

“Right. Only, not too many famous people. I want you to shine. Otherwise, you might get overlooked.”

“That’s why I love you. Nicole Haught, you are the most kind-hearted person I know. After me, that is.”

“And you, Waverly Earp, are the cheekiest person I know. That’s why I love you.”

The day of the bookstore reopening coincided with the start of Aaron Hardy’s trial. The sentence he would eventually receive was lighter than everyone hoped, especially Waverly. She wanted him to be locked up for many years, especially after all the emotional pain she had had to endure living with him, then having their beloved bookstore destroyed at his request. Instead, he got a paltry two years, simply because he was not the person who carried out the act of arson. 

The bigger price he paid was his reputation. The conviction destroyed his career. His TV show was dropped, his publishers turned their back on him and the creditors for his restaurants demanded their money be returned, knowing he no longer had any power to his name. A broken man, he would spend the rest of his life wondering why he had bothered going after his ex-girlfriend. Pride and a fragile ego taking over where sense should have prevailed. 

The morning of the big day Nicole was a nervous wreck. She paced the ground floor of the bookstore, checking her speech, making sure she had all the cards in order, the words becoming blurry before her eyes. She sat in one of the new comfy chairs, taking a moment, calming her breathing. Gus was managing the caterers, shouting at one poor guy who placed a full tray of food precariously on top of one of the new display units. She spotted Nicole struggling to deal with what was going on, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“This is your day. It doesn’t matter what you say. Just remember, everyone loves you.”

“There’s quite a few big names coming. What if I mess up?”

“Then mess up. You don’t have their training. Just be you. That’s who Waverly fell in love with.”

Nicole stood, hugging her aunt. “Thank you. Thank you for being the mother I never had.”

“My darling child, your mother loves you in her own selfish way. She’s extremely proud of you.”

“I guess. Have you seen Waverly?”

Waverly was in the basement sorting out table arrangements with Mavis. Everything looked perfect. She smiled when she saw Nicole, pulling her into her body, looking into her eyes.

“We did it. Can’t believe today is happening. Brie says she’ll be here early afternoon, unless her flight is delayed.”

“Shame about Scarlett. I could get used to this lifestyle.”

“Oh really? So, if I said Quentin Tarantino might be coming.”

Nicole froze. Her favourite filmmaker was coming to their quaint bookstore in their small town. “OK. You got me. Almost fell for it.”

“Seriously, Quentin and Judy said they’d love to drop by.”

“He really is coming? Here. To this town. To this bookstore. Today.”

“Possibly. Dame Judy is in his latest film. They’re shooting near here.”

“Sorry, Dame Judy. As in, Dame Judy Dench?” Nicole could feel her legs getting weak. “I need to sit down. Why didn’t you mention them before?”

“I should have. I’m sorry. Listen, they’re just like everyone else. They want to be treated like normal individuals. You’ll love them.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be alive to love them. Can’t believe I’ll meet Tarantino.”

“I thought you fancied Brie?”

“I do. No, no, no. That came out wrong. I fancy you. Love you. Only you. Brie is my on screen fantasy. Is it getting hot in here?”

Waverly laughed, pulling Nicole into a kiss.

As a special favour, HarperCollins moved the publication date forward of Waverly’s eleventh novel. Jessica was overseeing the stand near the entrance where it was on display. A photo of the refurbished store on its cover, a nod to the next part of the story about to begin. 

Guests started arriving. Wynonna, Doc and Alice rushing through the door fifteen minutes late. Robin was serving drinks, Jeremy helping him. Word had got out that a few big names might be attending, drawing in a larger crowd. The bookstore was heaving by the time Quentin and Judy arrived. Waverly guided Nicole towards them, suggesting she make small talk. Nicole no longer knew what word came after which. Another two of her idols in her presence, shaking her hand.

Dame Judy complimented them on the layout, saying it reminded her of a bookstore she used to visit as a child. Waverly explained how the store was rooted in the community, how the book clubs drew in those who wanted to live in their imaginations. 

Quentin was on his phone. “I have this great idea for a new film. Hear me out. Bookstore torched by a jealous lover, who happens to be famous. I know, right. Talk later.”

There was a buzz behind their backs. Brie had entered the building.

Several guests stood staring, mouths open, knowing who she was, not believing their eyes. She spotted Waverly, moving through the crowd to reach her. Obligatory cheek kissing out of the way, she took a drink from a tray Robin had in his hand. The grin on his face telling everyone he was very happy to be serving her.

“Love the place. So charming. Quentin, we haven’t met.”

Quentin kissed the back of Brie's hand, introducing Dame Judy. “You up for one of my movies?”

“Sure. Why not. What do you have in mind?”

“Oh. This one’s good. A thriller based around a small town bookstore.”

“Interested. Let me know details when you have something.”

Nicole looked at Waverly wondering whether she had stepped into an alternative universe. She grabbed Waverly’s hand. “Can I borrow you for a moment?”

Dragging her upstairs, they stood by Waverly’s chair, back in its original position. “Tell me this is happening. Tell me Quentin Tarantino is downstairs discussing a film about this bookstore, starring Brie Larson.”

“I think Dame Judy looked a little put out she wasn’t asked. I’ll have to write her in somewhere.”

Nicole wanted to scream. “Is any of this freaking you out?”

“We deserve this. Let’s enjoy what we have. We’ve won. Nicole, we’ve won.”

The day over, they retired to the flat. Wynonna opened a bottle of chilled champagne, the sound making Alice scream, earning a stern look from Doc. Gus sat on one of the new couches Waverly had chosen rubbing her toes. “I’d forgotten how tiring it is being on your feet all day. Here’s to a new chapter.”

Everyone raised their glasses, Alice raising her mango juice box not knowing what the adults were doing. Waverly nudged Nicole to say something. “I really. This is. What I’m trying to say. I met a girl who changed my life. I thought she would never want someone like me. And, well. Here I am. The luckiest person in the world.”

Waverly came and stood beside her, a kiss on the cheek. “Nicole thinks she’s the luckiest person. But, I am. I had stopped believing in fairy tales. That a knight in shining armour would rescue me. And, she walked into my life. I may not have recognised her had it not been for all the things that happened before. But, I do know this. I love her with all my heart for who she is. What she has brought to my life. And, the adventures we will have together.”

Wynonna was the first to cry. Doc consoling her, Alice wondering why mummy was so emotional. Wynonna had lived through the misery Waverly had suffered under Hardy. To see her now, radiant, in love, an amazing future before her, was all she ever wanted for her baby sister.


	30. That Bookstore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the story ends...

Postscript:

The reopening of the bookstore was a huge success. Waverly’s eleventh book sold out within hours, Jessica on the phone to HarperCollins to get another shipment sent as quickly as possible. Waverly obliged anyone who wanted a personal message inside the cover. Nicole was even asked to sign dozens of copies, a task she found unnerving. 

The bookstore thrived. The immediate publicity around its reopening generated a lot of sales in the weeks and months after. The book clubs were busier than ever. Held in the refurbished café, they added a special night once a week solely to discuss novels by Alice Makepeace. Robin was in his element. Now the store manager, he busied himself making sure everything ran smoothly. His love for the place shining through. 

Waverly continued to write in her favourite chair. Her first thriller. True to his word Tarantino pursued the idea of a film, asking her to send him a rough draft of the story for consideration. He replied with a number of interesting plot twists, all of which she incorporated. 

Dame Judy now had a part. 

They decided on a Christmas wedding. The venue was obvious. Their bookstore, once a church, now their home. They shared the organising, Nicole’s eye for detail and Waverly’s impeccable taste combined to make it a magical day for everyone. Alice looked beautiful. A stylist had been brought in, the little girl sitting patiently as they did her hair. As a special treat she was allowed to have her nails painted. Waverly looked on knowing this was as big a day for Alice as it was for her. 

Waverly’s dress was exquisite. Simple, elegant, utterly her. Nicole shed a tear when she saw it. Nicole chose a beautifully tailored suit. Gus helped with the selection, showing off her form and her colouring to perfection. They agreed to keep the day low key. Only close friends and family. Nicole’s mother and step-father arrived just in time. Waverly finally understood what Nicole had been trying to say about her mother. Wynonna was called upon to keep her entertained. The two got on very well, their mutual love of martinis sealing their newly formed friendship. 

Whiskey and Christmas cake were served. Naturally. 

They honeymooned in Kenya, helping a local charity build a new school. Waverly would go on to set up her own charity helping young girls get an education in the country. Nicole met up with her good friend from boarding school, who had returned to Kenya to run her father’s shipping company at the Port of Mombassa. They spent a few days with her and her family before heading back. They stopped off on their way home to visit Nicole's parents. A chance to build bridges.

They adjusted to life as a married couple fairly quickly. Nicole went vegan. Inevitable really, although she occasionally cheated with cheese and the odd omelette. Nicole’s tendency to not hang things up irritated Waverly, until she realised that was Nicole’s way of living in their space. The spare room was Waverly’s office. Made larger, with plenty of shelves for books, she spent hours in there working through her ideas. Nicole continued to listen to story developments each evening, a glass of whiskey in her hand, nodding as each character came to life in her mind.

They went for dinner once a week at Wynonna’s. Alice started primary school. Her reading ability was above average, proudly reading the books she and Auntie Nicole would choose from the store to her teacher. She received a certificate for reading the most books in her first year at school, which she proudly had framed on her bedroom wall. She told Auntie Waverly she would be a writer one day, just like her.

They ran a competition in the local newspaper to find a new name for the bookstore. So many interesting suggestions. And a few funny ones. Some witty person came up with the name of Booky McBookface, a nod to the naming of a polar research ship RRS Boaty McBoatface. The lesson being never let the Internet decide on something. It was Alice who finally came up with the name. 

It was simply called That Bookstore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine the first song they danced together at their wedding would have been Ed Sheeran: Thinking Out Loud...
> 
> They say stories never really end. They live on in our imagination.
> 
> I've enjoyed living with these characters in my head. Can genuinely say I'm sad leaving them here. But, also so glad to have had the chance to play with them in this story.
> 
> I'm sure they are out there having adventures together, Waverly incorporating them into her stories. If I get a chance I'd like to explore Waverly's new direction as a thriller writer. And, of course what her new pen name might be...!
> 
> In love & light


End file.
